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WALTER CAMP'S BOOK 
OF COLLEGE SPORTS 




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A RUN AROUND THE END. 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK 
OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



BY 

WALTER CAMP 



1Rew anfc IRevisefc iS&ttfon 




»~x&^g$&& 



NEW YORK: THE CENTURY CO. 
1900 



36318 



iress 

Two Copies Received 

AUG 13 1900 
I 

r copy. 
SEP 6 1900 



GV70I 



Copyright, 1889, 1890, 1893, 1895, 1900, by 
The Century Co. 



The DeVinne Press. 



PEEFACE 

IN selecting the four branches of sport treated of 
in this book I have taken those in which coaching 
has been most generally demanded, and which, with 
the exception of tennis, — a game already thoroughly 
written up by others, — make up the main body of our 
college sports. It is not my intention to bore the 
reader with very much regarding the great value of 
athletic sports to the development of a sound manhood. 
Our generation has already arrived at very satisfactory 
conclusions upon that point. I want to write to the 
boy or man who not only loves his sports, but who 
when he goes into them goes in heart and soul and 
who means to win every time if he can, who wants a 
fair field but no favors, who is ready to do his level 
best, and when he sees a better man, can give up the 
ball or the bat or the oar to him and stand aside with 
a good grace and cheer himself hoarse for his school or 
college, winning or losing, with an enthusiasm that 
knows only fair play and the best man to win. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction 1 

Track Athletics 13 

Rowing 50 

A Remarkable Boat Race r 76 

A Boat Race at New London 81 

Foot-ball in America 88 

Base-ball — for the Spectator 164 

Base-ball — for the Player 184 

Base-ball. — Diagram Field 279 

Foot-ball. — Diagram Field 280 

Appendix : 

Rowing. — Original Form of Boating Agreement 283 

Track Athletics. — Conditions governing the Harvard- 
Yale Contests for the University Track Athletic Cnp . . 287 

Contract. — Form of Contract between Clubs and Ground 
Owners 297 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

A Run Around the End Frontispiece 

The One-hundred-yard Dash — the Start 21 

Taking the Hurdles 23 

The High Leap, Front View 26 

The High Leap, Rear View 27 

Vaulting the Bar at Eleven Feet Five Inches 28 

Vaulting the Bar at Ten Feet Srx Inches 29 

Shot-putter Balancing 30 

Putting the Shot 30 

Putting the Shot 31 

Shot-putter, Left View 31 

Swinging the Hammer 32 

The Hammer-thrower — the Start 32 

The Bicycle 33 

qcarter-back taking the ball 91 

A Touch-down 93 

A Fair Tackle 95 

Diagram of Foot-Ball Field, with Measurements 103 

Diagrams Showing Different Plays 105-110 

Tackle of a Runner 129 

A Try-at-Goal by a Place-kick 131 

The open Scrimmage 135 

Making an Opening for a Runner, under the Old Rules, 
by Using the Arms 137 



xii ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Lamar Dodging the Yale Tacklers 143 

Lamar after Passing Yale's Twenty-five-yard Line 145 

Bull, of Yale 148 

The Polo Grounds During a Match 153 

The Foot-ball Team Starting for the Polo Grounds . . 155 

The Old Woolen Costume 158 

Foot-ball Player's Shoes 159 

A Tackle 162 

The Catcher 167 

An " Out-curve " — the Beginning 169 

An " Out-curve " — the End 169 

Pitching a " Drop " Ball , 171 

Stopping a Grounder 171 

Running to First Base 174 

Sliding to Base 175 

Fielder Catching a Fly 178 

First Baseman Catching a High Ball 181 

Diagram of the [Base-Ball] Field 187 

Laying out an Amateur Field 189 

Articles of a Base-ball Outfit . . 192 

The Body Protector and Catcher's Mask 195 

Pitcher at Practice in the " Cage " 197 

Practising Throwing with the Spool 200 

Batting for the Fielders' Practice 203 

Short-arm Throw — the Beginning 208 

Short-arm Throw — the End 209 

First Baseman Throwing to Second for a Double-play. 210 

Making Sure of a Catch. — Left-fielder Catching, Center- 
fielder Backing Him up 213 

On the Alert. " Get off ! Get a Lead ! " 215 

A Wild Throw and a Safe Slide to Second 217 



ILLUSTKATIONS xiii 

PAGE 

" Out ! " 219 



" Jump in Front of the Ball " 221 

Third Baseman Intercepting the Slide of a Runner from 
Second 225 

Playing- a Trick on the Base-runner 227 

First Baseman Taking- a Low Throw by Reaching Forward 228 

First Baseman Taking a Low Throw on the Long Bound 229 

A Runner Caught between Third Base and the Home 
Plate 231 

Diagram of Pitcher's Curves ...... 241 

Catcher Signaling to Pitcher by Relative Position of 
the Mask and His Eyes 249 

A Pitcher's Victim. Out on Strikes 251 

Catcher Running for a " Foul Fly " 253 

Catcher Throwing down to Second 257 

Diagram of Batting 261 

Base-runner Keeping on to Third 263 

Shutting off a Runner at the Home Plate 266 

"We Crossed the Home Plate within Three Feet of 
Each Other " 269 

"The Umpire Did not See Gardner at all, and was there- 
fore wholly Unable to Say whether the Run 
Counted or not " 271 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF 
COLLEGE SPORTS 

INTRODUCTION 

"Who misses or who wins the prize, 
Go lose or conquer as you can; 
But if you fail or if you rise 
Be each, pray God, a gentleman!" 

BEFORE taking up the direct plan of this book 
I want to seize upon the opportunity when, 
my dear sirs, I find you all together and in such 
good spirits that you will bear with an old preacher 
for sermonizing a little. I will not bore you long, 
but to each of you I have a word to say — to you, 
my boy, just home from school for the short holi- 
days; to you, young man, whose college years are 
hastening by; to you, paterfamilias, who, relieved for 
a day of business or professional cares, can spare a 
moment to look back upon your own school and col- 
lege days, over which the lapse of years has thrown 
a glamour that, hiding some of the hard realities, still 
lends a halo of romance to the incidents. 

There is the Rev. Dr. Sixthly, who on every seventh 
day spreads out before you, in choicest rhetoric, the 



2 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

tenets and doctrines of the church; there is the learned 
Professor Syntax, who looks after your construing; 
there is the new Professor Dumbell, who drags you 
willy-nilly through a complex system of chest-measure- 
ment and pulley-prescriptions; and there is Dr. Birch 
himself, who switches you well for whittling the desk. 
I shall not trespass upon the field of any of these 
worthy developers of the young idea. The field I 
enter with you, my boy, is the playground, where 
you go out to meet your school rivals; I want you, 
collegian, when you are after championships; I want 
you, sir, when you are talking with your boy about 
his sports. 

u Be each, pray G-od, a gentleman!" It is an easy 
word, and a pleasant one. I don't doubt but that 
you all pronounce it trippingly enough, and have each 
one his own high ideal of what a gentleman should 
be. Do you live up to it ? Or are you letting it come 
down a little here and there; so little, perhaps, that 
you hardly notice it until you make comparison? 
A gentleman against a gentleman always plays to 
win. There is a tacit agreement between them that 
each shall do his best, and the best man shall win. 
A gentleman does not make his living, however, 
from his athletic prowess. He does not earn any- 
thing by his victories except glory and satisfaction. 
Perhaps the first falling off in this respect began 
when the laurel wreath became a mug. So long as 
the mug was but the emblem, and valueless other- 
wise, there was no harm. There is still no harm 
where the mug or trophy hangs in the room of the 
winner as indicative of his skill; but if the silver 



INTRODUCTION 



mug becomes a silver dollar, either at the hands of 
the winner or the donor, let ns have the lanrel back 



again. 



A gentleman never allows a money consideration to 
affect his sport. Make no mistake about this. No matter 
how winding the road may be that eventually brings 
that dollar into the pocket, it is the price of what 
should be dearer to you than anything else, — your 
honor It is quite the fashion to say "sentimental 
bosh " to any one who preaches such an old-fashioned 
thing as honor; but among true gentlemen, my boy, 
it is just as real an article as ever, and it is one of 
the few things that never ring false. The man who 
tells you that insufferable rot about being practical 
and discarding sentiment, is not the man you would 
choose as a friend. He would n't stand by you ir 
a pinch, and when we come to the reality, it is onlj 
the man who believes in such a thing as honor thai 
is worth anything. So stick to it, my boy, and keep 
it bright. Carry it down into the small affairs of 
school and college. 

If you are enough of a man to be a good athlete, 
and some one asks you to use that athletic ability 
upon their behalf, don't take money for it, or any- 
thing that amounts to pay. If you are on the school 
team or nine and go into training, don't break faith 
with your captain, yourself, and your fellows by sur- 
reptitious indulgences. This does n't mean that if 
you see some other fellow smoke on the sly you are 
obliged to tell of it, nor does it mean that you must 
call him to account, unless you are the captain. If 
his standard is not so high as yours, that is his 



4 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

misfortune. If he asks your opinion, give it to him, 
if you like, but not in such a way as to leave the 
impression that you are put out by your own long- 
ing for a similar indulgence. If you are the captain 
and you find a man breaking training in spite of 
your orders, and you consider it advisable to put 
him off, don't be afraid to do it. Gentlemen are 
not cowards, mentally or physically. 

If a man comes to you and endeavors to affect 
your choice of a college by offers of a pecuniary 
nature, he does not take you for a gentleman or a 
gentleman's son, you may be sure. Gentlemen nei- 
ther offer nor take bribes. 

Now, my young college friend, it is your turn. 
Remember it is upon you that the eyes of the pre- 
paratory school-boy are fixed, it is toward you that 
the younger brother looks for example, and whatever 
you do in your four years' course, you will see mag- 
nified by the boys who come after you. Support 
your class and your college in every way compatible 
with your position. Gentlemen are not stingy, nor 
are they selfish. Play if you can and your class or 
college needs you. Pay if yon can afford it, but 
do not allow a false pride to lead you into subscrip- 
tions beyond your means. Don't be ashamed of en- 
thusiasm. A man without it is a man without a 
purpose. 

I remember a little incident of my own college 
course. I was a freshman, and knew almost no one 
in college except a certain junior. I had entered in 
two events in the fall athletic games, one a quarter 
mile, the other a hurdle race. I had run the quar- 



INTRODUCTION 5 

ter and been beaten, although I finished second. My 
opponents had all been upper classmen, and received 
no little encouragement from their friends. I felt 
very lonely and disgusted with myself and life in 
general when I got on the mark for the hurdle. I 
had but two competitors, and both had been cheered 
when they came to the scratch. Suddenly as we 
were getting on our marks I heard a voice half-way 
down the course call out, "You can do 'em," and I 
saw my junior friend waving his hat to me. It was 
not a classical remark, but it made me feel better. 
I was clumsy in getting off, and when we came to 
the sixth hurdle was nearly five yards behind the 
other two, but from that time on I could hear my 
friend roaring out, u Gro in!" "You 've got 'em yet!" 
" Now you 're over," as I went up each flight. I did 
finish first, and I had hardly touched the tape before 
he was patting me on the back. I don't suppose it 
cost him much to yell for a poor freshman, but I 
know that I always thought of him as one of the 
best fellows I ever knew, and in after years I have 
remembered enough of the feeling that was in my 
heart toward him, to go out and try to make some 
others feel that even a freshman has friends. 

Apropos of this, a word to non-contestants. In a 
boat-race or a foot-ball match the chances are that 
your own men will not hear your cheer, but the men 
who may try for the team or crew the next season 
do, and they are encouraged to better efforts by it. 
Now about the treatment of your rivals. A gentle- 
man is courteous. It is not courtesy upon a ball- 
field to cheer an error of the opponents. If it is 



6 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS 

upon your own grounds, it is the worst kind of boor- 
islmess. Moreover, if there are remarkable plays 
made by your rivals you yourselves should cheer; 
conceal any chagrin you may feel at the loss it may 
be to your side, but be courteous to appreciate and 
applaud an exceptional play by the opponents. 

After winning a race or a match, there is no reason 
why a good, healthy lot of young men should not do 
plenty of cheering, but there is every reason why they 
should not make their enjoyment depend upon in- 
sulting those who have lost. You cannot take your 
hilarity off into a corner and choke it to death, and 
no one wants you to ; but gratuitous jibes and jeers 
at the crestfallen mark you as a man who does not 
know how to bear a victory, a man whose pate is 
addled by the excitement or whose bringing up has 
been at fault. 

Finally, to non-contestants, I want to say a word 
regarding "celebrating." Primarily, do not, I beg 
of you, do anything because it looks smart. Enjoy 
yourselves, but do not try to "show off." Don't be 
"tough." A little unusual hilarity, a tendency to 
believe that everything is expressly for the collegian, 
can be upon these occasions overlooked and forgiven, 
but be ready to appreciate the point beyond which 
it is carried too far; be ready to apologize quickly 
and instantly where offense is taken. Show that be- 
hind the jolly fun there is the instinct and cultiva- 
tion of a gentleman's son, and that the ebullition of 
enthusiasm, although it may be a bore to those who 
fail to kindle at it, has nothing of the vicious ele- 
ment, and is thoroughly innocent of intentional of- 



INTRODUCTION 7 

fense to any one. If you find you are losing your 
head, go home ; you will not be sorry for it. 

Now for the contestants. I wish I could impress 
indelibly upon your minds the fact that with you 
rests the most enduring standard for amateur sports. 
With no disrespect to any class or condition — with 
the best regard for all strong legislation in outside 
athletic bodies — I say that the collegian's standard 
of purity in his sports should be the highest. The 
very fact of having the leisure to devote four years 
to a higher education, should be taken to involve 
the duty of acquiring a keener perception of right 
and wrong in matters where right and wrong depend 
upon a delicacy of honor. Gentlemen do not cheat, 
nor do they deceive themselves as to what cheating 
is. If you are elected the captain of a nine, team, 
or crew, read over your rules, and note exactly who 
are allowed as contestants by those rules, not by the 
custom of some predecessor, not by what you think 
some rival will do, but by the rules themselves. 
Having done that, never let a thought enter your 
head of making use of any man not clearly and 
cleanly eligible. You will save yourself many a 
future worry if you start fairly by looking into the 
record of every candidate at the outset. It is your 
duty to know that every one of your men is straight 
and square. I know what I am talking about when 
I say that a college captain can, in ninety-nine cases 
out of a hundred, become possessed of the exact truth 
regarding any man he thinks of trying. Don't inves- 
tigate to see how much your opponent could prove, 
but investigate for your own satisfaction. In legis- 



8 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

lating, remember that what a gentleman wants is fair 
play and the best man to win. When it is possible, 
without losing sight of this, to legislate for improve- 
ments in method, so much the better; but primarily 
make every rule such that the probability of unfin- 
ished, drawn, or disputed contests is reduced to a 
minimum. 

What if, at the time, your side may be the weaker? 
Don't be a coward on that account. Face it like a 
man, and say with your whole heart that you are on 
the side of the men who want no chance of retreat 
or escape, only a fair contest and certain victory or 
defeat at the end of it. To what do all the techni- 
calities amount when compared with the sincerity 
of men who come together to effect that result? 
When the delegates earnestly desire rules that shall 
insure such a contest and such an issue, their work 
is more than half done. Don't take the coward's part 
and try to legislate means of avoiding the issue. 

Perhaps if you, sir, the father of these boys, have 
had patience to listen thus far to me, you will allow 
me to put in a word for the love they bear these 
sports and the pride they take in their school and 
college. Talk with them about these interests. You 
will lose no dignity by it, and you will gain a con- 
fidence from them worth having. When you see 
anything in their speech or conduct that betokens 
a lowering of the high ideal of gentlemanliness, don't 
hesitate to say so. You don't want your boy "hired" 
by any one. If he plays, he plays as a gentleman, 
and not as a professional; he plays for victory, not 
for money ; and whatever bruises he may have in the 



INTRODUCTION 



flesh, his heart is right, and he can look yon in the 
eye as a gentleman should. 



Be each, pray God, a gentleman 



f " 



So intimate are the relations now existing between 
the athletic development of the preparatory school 
and that of the college or university that neither can 
be independent of the other. The 'varsity captain 
looks for his future material among the athletes of 
the preparatory school, and the school captain studies 
the manner and method of the 'varsities for sugges- 
tions that will enable his team, crew, or nine to wrest 
a victory from his rival school. In this book I have 
endeavored to give as far as possible the detailed 
work in each sport, because from the many inquiries 
that come, both from school and college, it is easy 
to see that something like practical coaching may 
be acceptable, even though it be only in print. Of 
course the member of the 'varsity will, if he look 
through the book, find many things that are to him 
an old story, but I know that many of us who now 
have been through the mill, would have read most 
eagerly a description of how the 'varsity was trained, 
and when we were school-boys would have saved our- 
selves many an error by knowing more of the detail 
observed in such training. Many a man comes to col- 
lege or enters the upper class in a preparatory school 
fresh from home, with no experience of school or col- 
lege life. Not infrequently such a man has in him a 
taste for athletics, which has had but a small chance 
of development. He wants to go in for the sports, but 
hesitates to ask the detail from his fellows lest they 



10 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

think hiin stupid. It is with this in mind that I 
have tried to take up the matter at the very begin- 
ning, so that any man or boy can organize a nine, 
crew, or team, and properly equipping that set of 
athletes, finally place them in the contest well drilled 
and disciplined to do themselves and him credit. I 
have seen, both in school and college, men well fitted 
in disposition and character for the position of cap- 
tain, men of excellent executive ability, who were 
impossible as candidates for that honor simply be- 
cause they did not know the detail of the work 
required. I have seen many a man whose chances 
of " getting on " were small, who could have been 
sure of a place had he known in the beginning how 
to go to work to fit himself. Neither captain nor 
player who is to become thoroughly successful ever 
neglects the trivial detail, and although those who 
watch and applaud the victory see only the final 
results, the captain and player can tell of long hours 
spent in mastering what seemed a very insignificant 
part of the early work. The plan of this book is 
fashioned after a device which served to give many 
a victory to one of our largest colleges, and which 
if adopted at any school or college is sure to bring 
about good results. The method was to keep a 
book, in which either the captain or coach entered 
a record of the practice, transcribing as accurately 
as possible the daily work of the men; the improve- 
ment under certain conditions; any falling back, and 
the apparent reasons for it — in fact, telling through 
the pages of the diary, as it were, everything he 
knew regarding the progress each day. This book 



INTRODUCTION 11 

was kept up, and each year the former year's record 
was studied and additions made; and, as I have heard 
captains and coaches frequently remark, there were in 
its pages a constant reminder of little points which 
without it would have been lost sight of, but which 
with it were kept fresh in the mind of each succeed- 
ing leader. In a similar fashion, there will be many 
apparently insignificant details mentioned and dwelt 
on in this book of college sports, which perhaps 
every captain knows and recognizes when he sees 
them in print as an old story, but which are on 
that very account so easily forgotten as to make it 
worth while to read them at least once a season. 



TRACK ATHLETICS 

ENGLAND has been in advance of us in track 
athletics, as in many other branches of sports, 
having long ago learned the advantages of all out- 
door exercises. But Americans are already realizing 
that the unfailing laws of nature demand more at- 
tention to the physical welfare of the body, and 
base-ball, foot-ball, and boating have done much for 
us; but track athletics offer a wider field, as they 
give more opportunity for individual endeavor, and 
demand nothing of that team work or united exer- 
cise which must always place something of a limit 
upon the universal enjoyment of and participation 
in the other sports. 

The professional side offers but little of interest 
to us beyond the records. The reason for this is 
that, in America at least, professional running is, 
like professional sculling, under a heavy cloud of 
questionable practices in the way of buying and sell- 
ing races. Certain of the more recent additions to 
the professional ranks are men of better character, 
and men whose conduct may eventually tell favor- 
ably toward an increase of interest in professional 
running. 

The amateur ranks, however, offer a very different 
phase of the subject. Two classes may be at once 

13 



14 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

selected ; not because they are actually distinct, but 
because their growth has been different, and because 
the conditions under which they exist must always 
differ considerably. These two classes are college 
athletes and other amateurs. College athletes are 
competing more and more in the general amateur 
meetings, and from these competitions deriving ex- 
cellent practice. 

Of English universities Oxford was the first to 
possess an organized athletic club. This was almost fifty 
years ago, and in a few years Cambridge followed, 
for a time even taking the lead in the number of 
organizations. Fourteen years later the first inter- 
university contests were held between these two at 
the cricket grounds of Christ Church. Ten years 
later American colleges held their first intercollegiate 
contest at Saratoga. This American meeting was, 
however, only a sort of side-show to the intercollegi- 
ate boat-racing of that date. The incentive of these 
contests, nevertheless, brought about the formation 
of athletic associations at both Harvard and Yale, 
Harvard's organization antedating Yale's by a few 
months. The Intercollegiate Association was not 
formed until college sports had been in progress for 
some three years. Then in 1876 the Intercollegiate 
Association of American Athletes of America was 
organized. The same year the New York Athletic 
Club gave an annual meeting for the decision of 
the amateur athletic championship of America. The 
year 1876, then, may be taken as the date when 
organization was first firmly established in both col- 
lege and amateur clubs. The necessity for such 



TKACK ATHLETICS 15 

organization was the rapid increase in interest and 
the number of the contesting clubs. This was 
most marked in the college meetings, for in 1873 
only three colleges competed, in 1874 eight, and in 
1875 thirteen. The year after organization only six 
colleges competed, but since then the number has 
never been below nine, and ten years from the date 
of the formation of the Intercollegiate Association 
there were fifteen colleges represented by contes- 
tants. The number of events, which in 1873 was 
one, increased in the following year to five, and was 
twelve when the organization was formed. These 
events have been altered somewhat since that time, 
and the number is at present thirteen. 

The various games which are generally classed 
under the term " track athletics " are walking, run- 
ning, jumping, bicycling, pole-vaulting, throwing of 
weights. Of these, running occupies the first place 
in point of public interest. The very idea of a race 
between two men stimulates interest at once, and to 
watch a close contest between trained runners is 
pleasant, even to those uninitiated in the mysteries 
of the track. 

The fastest running thus far done by any amateur 
for one hundred yards from a standstill is nine and 
three quarter seconds. Amateur runners have been 
coming up to the ten-second limit occasionally ever 
since 1868, but not one had passed it until within 
the nineties. In that twenty-odd years some eight 
American amateurs and an equal number of English- 
men have dashed down the track in the even time 
of ten seconds, while hundreds have run the course 



16 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

in the next fraction of a second. This record was 
made first in London in 1868. 

A story was once written of a man who traveled 
many a mile to attend performances of a lion-tamer. 
He was possessed of the insane desire to see the man 
eaten by the wild beasts, and eventually his passion 
was gratified. There is a similar feeling of expecta- 
tion in the minds of most of the enthusiasts who 
attend the amateur meetings of track athletes. Some 
time a record will be broken, and it is always a story 
worth the telling if one has seen it done. Naturally, 
the fifth of a second by which this new champion 
dashes into prominence will not be appreciable to 
the eye of the best of judges. Just the slightest 
movement less of the fine split second-hand on the 
watches of the timers, and some man's name is ad- 
ded to the list of record-breakers. When one thinks 
that these sprinters, as they are called, go at the rate 
of thirty feet a second, he realizes something of the 
meaning of the term " dash " as applied to the short- 
distance races. Nor are the longer distances with- 
out especial interest, each in its own way. From a 
quarter of a mile down the races are run at the top 
of a man's speed, but the half-mile, mile, and above 
require the husbanding of strength and proper put- 
ting forth of just enough to run out the entire 
distance at the best uniform speed. The walking 
requires a rather more accurate idea of the rules 
to make it of the most interest to the average spec- 
tator, who fails to feel that the walkers are putting 
forth their best endeavors because they do not run. 
This feeling is but human, and it often seems to 



TKACK ATHLETICS 17 

take possession of the contestants themselves, as one 
may see from the occasional warnings given by the 
judge. Walking contests have been waning. 

The other features of track athletics are not brought 
so prominently before the public as are the running 
races, but no one can fail to find a keen enjoyment 
in each when once or twice he has been a spectator of 
the contests. There is no better way to acquaint the 
reader with these various events than to answer in de- 
tail the questions which one might ask who for the 
first time attends one of these field meetings. The 
very heading in the newspaper, speaking of the men 
as the "Athletes of the Cinder Path," provokes a ques- 
tion. They come by this designation legitimately, and 
on account of the peculiar construction of the track 
upon which they run. This track is a scientific affair, 
and not a mere stretch of black dirt. It is made of six 
inches of the most approved constituents, carefully 
laid, and occupies months in its construction. 

First the ground is accurately surveyed and meas- 
ured, and the track so marked out that the required 
distance is given. The best tracks have straight sides, 
while the ends are upon moderate curves, either cir- 
cular, elliptical, or parabolic, there being considerable 
difference of opinion regarding the respective merits 
of these curves. This distance is measured just eigh- 
teen inches from the inner edge, in order that the run- 
ner may have room to run freely, and yet not be 
obliged to traverse more than the correct distance. 
When the track is thus mapped out the proposed space 
is excavated to the depth of six inches, and curbings 
of seasoned lumber, an inch thick and eight inches 



IS WALTER (AMI'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

wide, are set up around both inner and outer edge. 
Then the first layer, consisting of four inches of ordi- 
nary rough ashes freed from the coarser lumps, is de- 
posited for a foundation. This layer is carefully raked 
and leveled, and then covered with two inches of loam. 
This loam in turn is carefully picked over and all 
small stones taken ont. It is then rolled and watered 
frequently, usually for some weeks, but occasionally 
for two or three months, in order to have it thoroughly 
firm and hard. Finally the top layer, of cinders, is 
pnt on. This should be just sufficient thoroughly to 
cover the loam in every spot. The track is then com- 
plete, but it requires the constant care and attention 
of an experienced man to see that it is kept in condi- 
tion. The object of all this is to give the runners a 
firm, dry, and elastic surface upon which to make their 
best efforts successfully. 

One of the first things on the programme of events 
received on entry to the grounds is a summary of rec- 
ords. This plainly means the best time or distance, as 
the case may be, by which the contest has been won 
at any preceding meeting. But records have become 
things of nicety, and it requires certain conditions to 
make them of value. 

A professional runner named Seward was at one 
time accredited with running one hundred yards in 
nine and a quarter seconds. From the time when be- 
lief in that record was exploded down to the present 
day there have been many discussions relative to tim- 
ing. The English are partial to a single watch in the 
hands of an experienced timer; but to make a record 
in this country requires the presence of three timers or 



TKACK ATHLETICS 19 

measurers, and two of these must agree or the inter- 
mediate one of the three be taken as the correct one. 
These timers and measurers, together with the other 
officials of the meeting, may be distinguished by the 
various ribbons which they wear. In this respect track 
athletics differ considerably from either base-ball or 
foot-ball. Two officials on the field suffice in these 
sports, but on the track there are nearly a score. First 
there is the referee, who decides all questions in dis- 
pute which are not otherwise covered by the rules, and 
who has power to disqualify a competitor. Then there 
are two or more assistants to the referee, who are called 
clerks, and who act as witnesses before him in case of 
fouls. There are three judges at the finish, who deter- 
mine the order in which the contestants finish. Three 
other judges are called field judges ; these measure and 
tally the trials of competitors in jumps, pole-vaults, 
and weight competition. There are three time-keep- 
ers, who take the time in the events requiring it. There 
is a clerk of the course, who notifies the contestants to 
appear at the starting-time, and assigns them their po- 
sitions. There is one starter, who assumes control of 
the competitors after the clerk has placed them in their 
positions, and who, either by word or by pistol-report, 
starts each race, and whose duty it is to set back any 
contestant making a false start. There may be a judge 
of walking, who determines the fairness or unfairness 
of the walking, and warns or disqualifies any contes- 
tant guilty of adopting an unfair gait. There is one 
scorer, who records the order in which contestants fin- 
ish, as well as their time. Finally, there is one mar- 
shal, who has police charge of the inclosure. There is 



20 SALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOETS 

occasionally an official reporter, who announces the 
record of each event. Any number of assistants may 
be given to such officers as the judge of walking, clerk 
of the course, scorer, and marshal. All these officials 
arc necessary to the careful conduct of the events and 
to the accurate recording of them. 

As the first array of contestants in the 100-yard run 
come up to the starting-point, and the clerk of the 
course assigns them their positions, one is struck by 
the difference of build among them. Tall and short, 
light and heavy, there are few men who are prevented 
by physical make-up from competition in one of these 
dashes. Brooks at 170 pounds, and Myers at 110 
pounds, made one of the prettiest 220-yard contests 
ever seen in America, and both could run a fast 100. 
In this 100-yard race one of the chief points to be mas- 
tered is the start. How to get off quickly is the prob- 
lem, for a fifth of a second means five feet of ground. 
They are on the mark, and the starter stands behind 
them where they cannot see his movements nor the 
flash of his pistol. "Are you ready?" "Set!" An 
instant, and at the crack of the pistol down they come, 
and almost before an inexperienced man can select his 
favorite from the rush, they breast the tape which is 
held across the finish-line, and the race is over. No- 
thing is prettier in any race than the running up out 
of the crowd of a fast sprinter who is too good for his 
companions, but who has perhaps lost a fraction at 
the start. There is none of the gradual cutting down 
of competitors such as one sees in the longer distances 
— just a mad dash for the front, as it seems; and yet 
when one comes to analyze it, to know the training 



TKACK ATHLETICS 



21 



gone through to get that stride, he begins to realize 
that it is by no means what it appears at the first 




glance, almost a matter of luck. The start, too, re- 
quires weeks of practice, and one might almost say 



22 SALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

years of experience. If an ordinary spectator were to 
watch the start of an experienced sprinter against a 
novice, he would almost invariably suspect collusion 
of some kind between the starter and the sprinter. 
More than this, he would think that the experienced 
man got off considerably more ahead of the novice 
than he really did; for the sprinter gains not only in 
leaving the mark, but in getting instantly up into his 
stride, whereas the novice is not fairly under way for 
several feet after he has actually left the mark. The 
rules regarding unfair starting are necessarily strict, 
on account of this great advantage to be gained. In 
all short races, those up to 300 yards, the penalty for a 
false start is to be put back one yard. It is greater in 
the longer races. Two yards is the penalty in races up 
to 600 yards, three yards in races up to 1000 yards, 
five yards in races up to a mile, and ten yards in those 
over a mile. In all races a third false start disquali- 
fies the competitor ; and any attempt to advance ahead 
of his mark after the words "Are you ready?" is met 
with immediate disqualification. 

The 220-yard race is similar to the 100 in all respects. 
The contestants belong to the sprinter class, and go at 
high speed the entire distance. 

With the 440-yard, or quarter-mile, one sees the first 
signs of grief in those whose condition is not of the 
best, or who cannot hold out for the entire distance. 
It is at this distance that the runner shows that he is 
not a machine. The best illustration of this is found 
in the records of the events. The speed of a runner at 
his best, as shown in the 100-yard race, is ten yards a 
second. This speed he holds with machine-like pre- 



TEACK ATHLETICS 



23 



cision in the 220-yard race, the record being be- 
tween 21 and 22 seconds. When the 440-yard race is 
reached, however, he cannot gather the power neces- 
sary to finish in 44 seconds, but at this distance we 
find the best man nearly 4 seconds behind time. The 
quarter-mile has more in common with the sprint run- 
ner than the distance man, however, for the sensation 
is that of running at full speed the entire distance, ra- 
ther than by a perceptible effort so husbanding power 
as to make the pace a steady one, which is the feeling 
of, for example, the mile runner. The distance runners 
appear to run easily all the way, and to the spectator 
it seems that they might go faster if they would make 
the effort ; but where the sprinter would have run him- 
self out, and would begin to go unsteadily and mani- 
festly with an effort, the distance man is still springing 
easily over the ground, apparently with no thought of 
fatigue, but rather with a consciousness of strength. 

Hurdle-racing is 
a sport which stands 
between running and 
jumping, being a 
combination of the 
two. It does not 
require a man of 
marked jumping 
ability, however, as 
the flights are only 
3 feet 6 inches, and 
any average athlete, 
although he may have paid no attention to jumping, 
finds no difficulty in clearing them. The point, in 




TAKING THE HURDLES. 



'24 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

fact, at which the hurdler aims is to clear them just 
as little as possible, skimming over the tops so closely 
that he almost grazes each. In the early days of 
hurdling the runner ran as fast as he could between 
each flight, and with no definite number of steps 
took the hurdles as he might obstructions thrown 
in his pathway at haphazard. The scientific hurdler 
now takes a certain number of steps between the flights, 
and, fetching each at the most favorable point for his 
rise, actually clears them without a break in his stride, 
one leg being put out while the other is bent just as 
though it were but an exaggerated step. The distance 
covered is 120 yards, and there are ten hurdles set 10 
yards apart with a 15-yard clear start and finish. Other 
distances are sometimes run, as 220 yards most com- 
monly. In this case the hurdles are a foot lower, and 
are set 20 yards apart. The amateur record for the 
120-yard hurdle race is 15f seconds. This shows that 
the runner loses almost half a second at each one of 
the obstacles in his course. 

The walkers next attract our attention. To the 
ordinary pedestrian who tramps out for twenty or 
thirty miles into the country the gait of these racers 
is entirely unfamiliar. There seems the most in- 
tense exaggeration of every muscular movement. 
Watch this man who walks a mile in seven minutes ! 
It certainly seems as if he would twist his spinal 
column apart just above his hips. But if one at- 
tempts to walk alongside of him, one soon realizes 
with what rapidity he covers the ground. Even a 
modest trot will not keep one even with him. 
Roughly speaking, it takes only a little over two 



TKACK ATHLETICS 25 

minutes longer to walk than to run a mile. The 
distinction between running and walking is, that in 
the latter the heel strikes the ground first, and some 
part of one foot is always touching the ground, 
whereas in running the toe strikes first, and there 
is a period in the stride when both the runner's feet 
are off the ground. It requires the most expert of 
judges to see that the walking is fair, for there are 
a dozen tricks of gait, not in the least apparent to 
the uninitiated, which are unfair. Perhaps none is 
more common than what to us would seem the faint- 
est suspicion of a limp, by which means the failure 
to straighten the leg at each step, thus not striking 
the heel first, from which an unfair walker can gain 
a very marked increase in speed. Long-distance 
pedestrianism, such as six-day walking-matches, has 
nothing in common with the walking of the short- 
distance cinder-track men. Most of these long- 
distance matches are now of the go-as-you-please 
class; that is, there is no restriction as to the 
gait, the majority taking to a kind of jog-trot, 
which yields the greatest results with the least 
fatigue. 

To watch the jumping is rather a relief after the 
strain of sympathetic effort one f eel's inclined involun- 
tarily to make when the walkers are exerting every par- 
ticle of power to pass each other. The contestants jump 
in turns, and in the case of a long or a broad jump the 
greatest distance covered in three attempts wins the 
event. The best or leading men then have three more 
trials. The run is unlimited, each man suiting his own 
taste in the matter. The scratch or line from which the 



26 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

jump is taken is a joist, some five inches wide, sunk 
flush with the ground. Just in front of this the earth 
is removed to the depth of three inches from a space 
of six inches, and the rule regarding the jump is that 
it counts a trial with no result if a competitor step 




THE HIGH LEAP, 
FRONT VIEW. 



over the scratch line, or if he 

make any mark on the ground 

in front of the scratch. The 

measuring is done at right angles 

to the scratch line and to the 

nearest mark made by any part of the person of the 

competitor. 

The high jump is made over a flat bar, which is 
supported on two uprights in such a position as 
to be easily dislodged. Competition begins at some 
height, selected by the measurers, which all the con- 
testants can easily clear. The bar is then steadily 
lifted at the regulation of the measurers. A com- 
petitor may decline to use his jump at any height 
in his turn, but by so doing forfeits his right to jump 
again at that height. Three trials are allowed, and 



TKACK ATHLETICS 



27 



if on the third the jumper fails to clear the bar he 
drops out. The removal of the bar constitutes a 
failure. To run under the bar is a balk, and three 
of these successive balks constitute a trial jump. A 
fair jump is one made without the assistance of 




weights, diving, somersaults, or 
handsprings of any kind. 

Pole-vaulting is another species 
of jumping, in which the jumper 
aids himself by the use of a long pole which he 
plants in the ground a little distance from the bar, 
and with which he lifts himself as he springs into 
the air. As the pole is reaching the perpendicular 
he swings himself over the bar, letting go the pole 
at the same moment. The same rule governs the 
pole-vault as the running high jump, and there is no 
limit to the size or weight of the poles. 

Putting the shot is a contest requiring not only the 
same amount of skill as the other events, but also 
unusual muscular strength. The shot is an iron 



28 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

sphere, weighing either sixteen pounds or twenty- 
four pounds, the more usual weight being sixteen 
pounds. It must be put with one hand only, and 
in front of the shoulder. The competitor stands 
in a limited space, and must not step out of this 




VAULTING THE BAR AT ELEVEN FEET 
FIVE INCHES. 



space in putting, nor until his 
put has been measured. The front 
side of the space has a board 
standing four inches high, and 
no part of the competitor's person 
must be on this board in making 
the attempt. Puts are measured in a line at right 
angles from the front line of the space, or that line 
prolonged, to the nearest mark made by the shot. 
Three trials are allowed, and the contestants take 
turns as in the broad jump. 

Throwing the hammer, like putting the shot, re- 
quires a combination of skill and muscular strength. 
The hammer is a metal sphere attached to a wire 
handle, the projecting length of which, together with 
the diameter of the head, is four feet, the combined 



TKACK ATHLETICS 



29 



weight of head and handle being sixteen pounds. 
The throwing is done from a certain limited circular 
space, and the competitor may not overstep the 
front of this space until his throw is measured. 
The throw is measured from the nearest mark made 
by the hammer-head to the circumference of the circle 
on a line with that mark and the center of the circle. 
In throwing the hammer under the Amateur Athletic 
Union rules there are no further restrictions as to the 
man's method, but it is usual to swing the hammer at the 
extended length of 
the arms, turning 
the body two or 
three times and then 
to let it go over the 
shoulder. Other 

contests in weight- 
putting and ham- 
mer-throwing are in- 
dulged in, but these are 
the most common in the 
programmes in this country. 

Bicycling has grown to be so 
wide-spread that it has a life, 
ords quite apart from ordinary 

There is one feature of these 
mentioned, but which forms an 
in the interest and progress of the games. This is 
what is known as handicapping. Were it not for this 
many a meeting would lose much of its interest, and 
undoubtedly it stimulates to the improvement in gen- 
eral ability much more than would only level racing. 




VAULTING THE 

BAR AT TEN 

FEET SIX INCHES. 



common and 
rules, and rec- 
track athletics, 
sports not yet 
important element 



30 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 




SHOT-PUTTER BALANCING. 



As the term implies, handi- 
capping is the taking away 
certain of the advantages of 
the superior men, and so ar- 
ranging the acknowledged su- 
perior contestants that they 
must not only do better than 
the rest in order to win, but 
do enough better to make it 
a fair struggle on both sides. 
Sometimes a time allowance 
is made to the weaker men; 
more often, as in running- 
matches, the best man is 
started from the scratch and is obliged, therefore, to 
run the full distance, whereas his competitors are 
placed at certain intervals ahead of him, these dis- 
tances being proportioned to 
their relative ability as dis- 
played by the records they 
have already made. In order 
that this system of handicap- 
ping may be properly carried 
out, it is, of course, neces- 
sary that the handicapper 
be not only thoroughly fa- 
miliar with the usual speed 
developed in all the various 
races, but also that he keep 
accurate tables of the records 
of each one of the runners 
whom he must place. Even 




PUTTING THE SHOT. 



TKACK ATHLETICS 



31 




PUTTING THE SHOT. 



then, unless he be possessed 
of excellent judgment, he 
makes occasional mistakes 
that result in unsatisfactory 
races. The Amateur Ath- 
letic Union, which at pres- 
ent embraces the majority 
of prominent clubs, employs 
an official handicapper, 
whose duty it is, upon re- 
ceipt of the names of con- 
testants, to map out from 
his table of records the 
proper handicaps for the 
entries in each race. The rules of the A. A. XL provide 
for this official handicapper. He is expected to keep 
records and to handicap all entries as directed by 
the secretary of the Union, also 
to do other work such as the 
board of managers may direct. 
There are a few pertinent 
questions that arise, to which 
a review of the annual ama- 
teur championship meetings 
affords more or less satis- 
factory answers. The ques- 
tion of the age at which a man 
is fitted for his best athletic 
work has always been a moot- 
ed one in all sports. In the 
games belonging particularly 
to track athletics the record 




SHOT-PUTTER, LEFT VIEW. 



32 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS. 




of events shows that maturity is 
most needed in the events requiring 
unusual muscular development, such 
as weight-putting contests and ham- 
mer-throwing, while the extreme of 
youth seems no detriment to the 
running contests, jumping, and pole- 
vaulting. Hammer-throwing and 
weight-putting championships have 
been won by men over forty years 
of age, while boys of eighteen years 
have taken 100-yard, mile, jumping, 
and pole-vaulting championships. 
W. B. Curtis has shown the most 
mature development by winning 
championships at 
the age of 40, 41, 42, 
43, and 44 years. 
The longest continuous connection 
with track athletic sports has been 
that of C. A. J. Queckberner, who 
has competed in twelve successive 
years, ever since 1878, winning one 
or more championships at nine meet- 
ings. L. E. Myers, whose career is 
noted later in this article, and L. 
F. Lambrecht, both held a champion- 
ship against all competition for 
six successive annual contests. 
The entries for these an- 
nual championship meet- 
ings have ranged from 100 the hammer-thrower— the start. 



SWINGING THE HAM- 
MER. 




TEACK ATHLETICS. 



33 



to 150, once even as high as 169. As a rule, four 
fifths of those entering start in the events. The 
tendency to go from the ranks of the amateur into 
professionalism was much more marked in the earlier 
days of these meetings. The first annual champion- 




THE BICYCLE. * 

a, man's bicycle ; &, tandem bicycle ; c, woman's bicycle; d, sprocket- wheel with 
pedal-crank shaft. 

ship meeting, in 1876, had on its programme the follow- 
ing events : 100-yard, quarter-mile, half-mile, one-mile 
runs; 120-yard hurdle race; one-, three-, and seven- 
mile walks ; running high jump ; running long jump ; 
throwing hammer ; and putting the shot. The rules of 
the A. A. U. in 1890 gave events as follows : 100-yard, 
220-yard, 440-yard, 880-yard, one-mile, and five-mile 
runs, one-mile and three-mile walks, two-mile bicycle 



34 WALTEK CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

race, pole-vault, running high jump, running broad 
jump, throwing 16-pound hammer, throwing 36-pound 
weight, putting 16-pound shot, 120-yard hurdle race, 
220-yard hurdle race, individual tug of war, and team 
tug of war — a total of nineteen. The seven-mile and 
other walks are the only events that have been abso- 
lutely lost, while some have been added. 

Some of the contests of American athletes have 
stirred the enthusiastic spirit of more than the mere 
spectators. No one can read the story of one of his 
own countrymen contending against a foreigner, and 
showing pluck and skill enough to win, without a se- 
cret satisfaction. The performances of one amateur 
of our day are so remarkable as to be worthy of chron- 
icling. That man is L. E. Myers, who later joined 
the ranks of professional runners; but who, while 
strictly an amateur, lowered more records, and ran 
away from more really good runners, than any other 
man ever upon the cinder track. His first appearance 
was at the games of the Xew-York Athletic Club, elec- 
tion day, November, 1878. He was given a start of 18 
yards in the quarter-mile race, and won in 55 seconds. 
The next spring we find him in the games of the Sta- 
ten Island Athletic Club, where he won the quarter- 
mile in 51 seconds. From this time on he attacked 
records and men, and mowed them down steadily. In 
1880 he won four American and four Canadian cham- 
pionships. It was then decided to send him to Eng- 
land, where they had little faith in the genuineness of 
his records, and predicted that their second-rate men 
would run the American off his feet. Previous to his 
first appearance, Englishmen interested in track ath- 



TKACK ATHLETICS 35 

letics laughed at the possibility of his winning. With 
many runners the time when much is expected of them 
is very apt to be the occasion when they appear at 
their worst. Myers, however, never displayed this un- 
fortunate trait, and his first English race was a grand 
triumph. Not only did he win by a clean eleven yards, 
but he broke the English record. From that time on 
he ran on every kind of track, through fields of all 
sorts of men, was placed at scratch with what appeared 
at least a line of men stationed all the way down the 
course, and yet the summary of nearly every race was 
the legend, " Myers romped in an easy winner." 

It is needless to say that the Englishmen became 
thoroughly satisfied with the genuineness of his rec- 
ords. In 1884 he again visited England, and lowered 
three records. The following year he crossed once 
more to meet the best of England's men on various 
tracks. Two of these meetings were notable. At the 
Civil Service sports he was entered in a handicap quar- 
ter when Cowie, the English champion, was given eight 
yards' start. Myers ran him down and won in 48f 
seconds. A month and a half later, having in the 
mean time won many races, he was entered at Black- 
burn in two handicaps, and after winning the half- 
mile he ran the final heat of the quarter, giving Barton, 
of Scotland, 20 yards. Snook and others were given 
good starts in this, and it was generally believed that 
for once the American was to be defeated. Myers 
picked them all up, and won over a grass course in 
49f seconds. 

A half-mile race of Myers at Widnes shows the cali- 
ber of the man. As we have it on the authority of an 



36 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

English journal of that date, Myers entered this par- 
ticular half-mile handicap to beat a local man who had 
been freely boasting that the American could not give 
him 35 yards at that distance. Myers had just beaten 
Cowie again in the quarter, also Snook and others in 
the level half. But one great feature of Myers's run- 
ning has always been his wonderful ability to keep on 
running race after race as long as there was any one 
before him, and he stepped up to the scratch in the 
handicap half as ready as ever. One by one he ran 
through his field, and 30 yards from home had them 
all behind him, coming in with an easy 8-yard lead in 
1 minute 57f seconds. As the English journal took 
occasion to remark of the local runner's impression 
about the 35-yard start, "At five o'clock on Saturday 

evening Mr. had quite altered his opinion on the 

subject, which only shows what changeable mortals we 
all are." 

The only man who actually ran Myers off his feet 
in a burst of speed was Brooks, a college sprinter. 
This man had beaten Myers in 1882, but in that race 
he had made his lead and kept in front to the end. In 
1883, however, Myers had the pole, and when the two 
entered the straight with 90 yards to go Brooks was 
some 3 yards in the rear. The watches of some reli- 
able experts say that the collegian ran the 90 yards in 
8J seconds. At any rate he gained inch by inch, and 
25 yards from the finish was within a yard of Myers. 
Then it was that both felt the final struggle, and as 
Brooks came up by Myers's side, both men tried for 
that impossible speed which is beyond the limit. My- 
ers's limit came a shade nearer than that of Brooks, for 



TKACK ATHLETICS 37 

he fell headlong in the attempt, and Brooks breasted 
the tape a winner. 

Concekning the financial status of track athletics, 
while they do not, like base-ball, have an existence for 
the purpose of money-making, there is nevertheless a 
large amount of capital involved indirectly. Almost 
all of the clubs now prominent in this branch of sports 
have a winter existence, games, and habitat as well as 
an outdoor one. In most of the large cities there are 
athletic clubs which own desirable property. The club- 
houses in many instances are as much marvels of com- 
fort and luxury as clubs with a different raison d'etre. 

One feature of these sports has not yet been men- 
tioned, and that is the prizes. These have varied much 
from time to time. The first prizes given in English 
university sports were money prizes, but this practice 
was almost immediately altered, and there is now even 
a rule forbidding an athlete from pawning his medals 
or in any way converting them into money. While 
the correct theory for the amateur is that the prize 
should be valued and valuable only as a token of the 
victory it represents, as a matter of fact it has become 
the custom to have the prizes for record-breaking of 
more than a merely nominal value. So long as the 
present very stringent rules are in force regarding pro- 
fessionalism of any kind, there is but little danger of 
prizes becoming so great in value as to induce men to 
wish to obtain them with an eye to their marketable 
nature. 

The progress of track athletics in this country has 
been rapid. The extension of the games of the cinder 



38 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

track throughout all large cities marks a different 
standing for them than any that thej^ have obtained 
in the colleges and universities. There they had to 
wage direct warfare with boating and ball, and for a 
time the battle was an unequal one. The other sports 
were older and had the support of those who had gone 
before, while sports of the track were looked upon as 
interlopers which would interfere with the more regu- 
lar games by directing men to other athletic enjoy- 
ment. The day has now come, however, when they 
have an assured position at all the large universities 
and colleges, while in amateur athletic organizations 
track athletics have the first rank, and the other sports 
are of but minor interest. Nor is the day far distant 
when the audiences that assemble to witness these con- 
tests will be equal to those assembled at any amateur 
ball-game or boat-race. Moreover, the number of con- 
testants is increasing, and that means that more men 
are enjoying the benefits of open-air exercise, and by 
the help of the pleasant stimulus of contest are being 
drawn toward a better physical development. 

The matter of training the track athlete at school 
and college has become one of careful study and of 
even more varied scope than the training of crews, 
ball nines, or foot-ball teams. The types of men in 
the various events are so markedly dissimilar, and 
the kinds of work for which they are to be prepared 
so different, that there must be several divisions of 
track athletes, and each division enjoy detailed study 
and direction toward fitting them for their special 
performance. The sprinter, or short-distance runner, 
although exceptionally a large man, is, as a rule, of 



TKACK ATHLETICS 39 

a light, nervous, exceedingly active, and high-strung 
type. The weight-putter and hammer-thrower, on the 
other hand, is generally found among the large, heav- 
ily built, and rather slow-moving type of extraordi- 
nary muscular strength. 

The college athletes in training for the games may 
be classed as follows : Long-distance runners, middle- 
distance runners, sprinters, jumpers and pole-vaulters, 
weight-throwers, walkers, and bicycle men. Of these 
the long-distance men are trained chiefly to increase 
their staying powers. But they are not put through 
exactly the same work day after day. They run three 
or four miles across country, for instance, two or three 
days in the week, and on the alternate days take sharp 
three-quarter or half-mile runs. In this way their early 
training is directed especially toward " improving their 
wind," as the expression has it. Later, as the season 
opens, they are put on the track and sent at varying 
distances, usually half or two thirds of the race for 
which they are to be entered. They are taught by run- 
ning under the watch to become accurate judges of the 
rate at which they are running, in order not to be 
tempted to take too fast or too slow a pace by the ef- 
forts of some rival's partner or by the honest but ill- 
judged attempt of some inexperienced man. About 
once a week or once in ten days the runner is put over 
his distance on time. The rest of the time he either 
takes these half distances or practises short dashes to 
increase his ability to spurt. 

The sprinters in the early and preliminary weeks 
do plenty of walking, broken up by short sprints, and 
should have a short section of track — regulation cin- 



40 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

der track — conveniently near at hand upon which to 
practise starting, for it is upon the ability to get off 
the mark quickly that the race may often depend in 
these short distances. In practising these starts it is 
well for the man to have his regular running-shoes on, 
else his practice will amount to but little on account 
of the altered conditions. After the season opens at 
the track the sprinters practise daily starting under 
the pistol, and vary this with short bursts and then 
moderate stretches, being very careful not to lapse into 
careless running, but making every step clean and 
sharp, even though at a slower pace. 

The jumpers and pole men go through general train- 
ing by long walks and little dashes in order to get into 
good condition, but their special practice is sprinting 
and that of the take-off. Both spend much time upon 
this latter all-important point of their work. Later, 
when at work at the field, they take sprinting practice, 
and every other day or two or three times a week jump 
and vault, taking the day between for easing up by a 
run rather than their regular work. 

The weight men take runs of one or two miles in the 
preliminary weeks, and through the winter use the 
chest weights and pulleys besides the heavy dumb- 
bells, all of which is directed toward strengthening the 
muscles they will use the most. After a time they go 
through regular trials with each other, for this sport 
particularly requires something of an incentive in the 
shape of contest to keep a man steadily improving. 
Their work does not differ materially when at the field, 
although they are not expected to make their best ef- 
fort too often, as they run the same risk of getting 



TRACK ATHLETICS 41 

stale as that experienced by a pitcher who uses his 
arm too much. The walkers were wont to go three 
to four miles at a fast pace, paying particular atten- 
tion to the steady increase of their stride, and, of 
course, walking fairly. When in the season they 
got on the track, special attention was paid to their 
free hip action and the use of the arms. They, too, 
practised to acquire a good and accurate knowledge 
of pace and practise spurts. Walking has since been 
discarded. The bicycle men do road work during the 
fall and winter when the weather permits, going eight 
or ten miles a day, and then taking body exercise in 
the gymnasium. Usually all the candidates for the 
athletic team go through a short daily course of gym- 
nasium work during the winter. As early as possible 
the bicyclists get on the track, and then their practice 
consists of daily rides at medium speed, interspersed 
with spurts. To them also the acquiring a knowledge 
of pace is absolutely necessary, and they make their 
weekly trial as we]l. The winter work of an athletic 
team can in these days of excellent gymnasia be made 
of great help toward their preparation for the spring. 
Felt- or canvas-covered weights enable the weight men 
to practise indoors, and the use of mattresses and 
boards makes it possible to do the high jump and the 
pole-vault. Short sprints are also possible, and even 
hurdling. On the track distance races, both running 
and walking, can be indulged in, and meetings, called 
indoor meetings, are now regularly held every winter. 
One of the best methods for the development of new 
material is the occasional handicap meeting, either at 
home or upon an outside track. At home these meet- 



42 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLL: B ffl 

ga are productive of a friendly rivalry that stimu- 
lates men to their best efforts, as well as directing their 
attention to the improvement of their faults; andcom- 

tion in outside meeting- gives I on that most ne- 

xperience which is bo valuable when the day 

of the important test arrives. Many a first-time 

•k athlete is afflicted with a sensation exactly simi- 
lar to stage-fright, and wholly unable to do himself or 
his college justice from this very lack of experience. 
When it is possible, an experienced coach should 

employed, for he is even more desirable in track 
and field e r ents than in foot-ball or I — all, although 
perhaps in rowing the services of a coach are of equal 
value. The men should be worked in squads, and it is 
well to have a sub-captain or man in charge of each of 
se squads, while the captain himself has full chat _ 

r all. TLe coach should be a man of thorough 
exj e, and should spend all his time upon the 

ching of the individuals in their respective lines. 
There is one point in which the development of an 
athletic team requires tar more careful study than that 
of any of the other branches. In base-ball, foot-ball, 
and boating there is a need of good s -.;" -:it utes, but 
•mpared with the number of the men 
making up the first choice. In all track meetings sec- 
ond and third and even fourth places count a certain 
number of points for the uing them, and hence 

developmen.1 the men who are not perhaps the 
most promising is an all-irnportan: | int for the col- 

:ion of captain and coach. A man who wins fourth 
place may by that triumph secure for his colleg 

the cup. and be as much the as the member of 



TEACK ATHLETICS 43 

the nine who scores the winning run or of the team 
who makes the tonch-down. Moreover, it is in the 
development of these second-grade men that a school 
or college eventually establishes a fund of material for 
first places. 

To a school or college about to start an athletic team 
a few very brief hints may be valuable. Eemember 
that the first thing to be done is not to know that you 
have some one single star, but to induce as large a 
number of men as possible to come out and try for the 
team. If a start can be made before the spring and a 
number of men persuaded to put themselves into rea- 
sonably good condition by gymnasium and general 
winter work, so much the better. Then the man who 
is chosen captain should, as soon as the weather and 
men are in condition for a few trials, make a thorough 
test of his candidates. Here let me say that one of the 
best captains of a university track athletic team once 
said to me : " No man knows what he can do in track 
athletics until he tries, and I think, almost without ex- 
ception, that of all my record-holders not one of them 
had ever tried his respective event previous to entering 
college." It is therefore well to bear in mind this fact, 
and by having the men take part in little competitions, 
determine what each is likely to do best. Many times 
an unexpected star is thus discovered. In track ath- 
letics, as in the other sports, it is hard, persistent work 
that wins, and the men must have this fact thoroughly 
impressed upon them at the outset, in order that no 
individual mav become discouraged when some vet- 
eran runner, jumper, or vault er beats him. Be careful 
to avoid overtraining, however, for it is both more 



44 WALTER CAMP'S BOCK OF COLLEGE SPOETS 

common and more serious in this branch than in some 
of the others. A man is making individual efforts, 
and there is no limit perhaps to his pluck and ambi- 
tion, so that without a watchful eye over him he goes 
on overexerting himself, and when the time of trial 
comes he has no snap or dash, but only a half-hearted 
listlessness that numbs his physical and mental quali- 
ties. Pluck, or " sand," as the average American boy 
calls it, is a characteristic of the winners in track 
events, as it is of the best men in the other sports : 
only in the other sports there are usually comrades 
close at hand to help, while on the track a man 
must run his own race on his own bottom. He must 
grit his teeth, squeeze his corks, and go ahead, even 
though he feels that he will drop. The preparation in 
the gymnasium will have put the men into some 
measure of condition, but work should be gradual 
even after that, and it is a cardinal fact worth re- 
membering that vitality or energy should never be 
exhausted. The best performer is usually the eager 
performer. 

Candidates for the 100-yard dash should be classed 
together, and the light body-exercise they have 
taken in the winter, with the occasional short out- 
door run, and the starting practice, will have fitted 
them for track work. They should be brought up 
to their mark and put through the regular form of 
"Beady," "Get set,'' and then the pistol, and all off at 
their top speed for twenty or twenty-five yards. They 
should always run their distance as though in a race. 
Every other day they should be given a 50-yard 
instead, and they should do some jogging of 100 or 



TEACK ATHLETICS 45 

125 yards occasionally, lengthening out as the day of 
contest draws near, so that they can go through their 
distance at a good clip. In starting there are many 
different styles, the crouching and the Sheffield being 
perhaps the most favored. In the former the runner 
crouches down, touching his fingers to the ground, 
one foot on the mark, the other just behind it. In 
the latter he stands, bending slightly forward, his body 
partly turned, one arm projecting in front and the 
other lifted behind, his forward foot on the mark 
and the other some inches back. 

The 220-yard men practise like the 100-yard men, 
with this exception — that the 220 men must acquire 
a knowledge of pace which the 100. men do not so 
certainly need. A 100-yard man, except in trials, 
when he is sure of getting his place, is usually 
best instructed to run it out at speed. Turning and 
looking behind and slackening up have lost many a 
winner his race; and there are men who, in a 100, 
when possessed of the notion that they know just 
what clip they are going at, will do tricks of this kind. 
But in a 220 the runner should know something of 
pace as do the longer distance men. The best thing 
to say to the sprinters just before the race is what I 
heard a captain at the Intercollegiates say one year: 
"Now remember that you are running for your col- 
lege. Don't leave that mark until the pistol goes, and 
then you go too, and as if Death were after you. 
Don't turn your head until your chest strikes the 
tape ! " 

For the 440 the practice should be, after the win- 
ter breaking in, easy quarters, — sometimes an easy 



46 WAIiTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

half — sometimes a 300; on occasional afternoons, 
the 220-yard dashes, — of course with a rest between; 
and once a week, a quarter on time. With the in- 
creased distance comes that increased value of a 
knowledge of pace which the runner must acquire 
from daily running under the watch, until he knows 
what time he is making. But he must not (any more 
than the 220 man) get an idea that he can run the 
first part of his race easy and then finish fast. As one 
man puts it: "You 've got to run the first 220 as fast 
as you can, and then finish on your sand." 

For the 880, after getting on the track, short, sharp 
300-yard dashes every few days, then a 660-yard, 
every little while quick quarters, — all run under the 
watch, to acquire the knowledge of pace. At first a 
slow half, or possibly five eighths once in a while, 
starting from the mark and running hard for the first 
30 or 40 yards. This the 440 men should also do. 
When the quarter- and half-milers are going on the 
track for the race, the captain should tell them to 
follow instructions carefully, using their pace-makers 
to the very best of their ability, and not permitting 
themselves to be fooled or drawn out by the tactics of 
interested opponents. They must not be troubled by 
some man rushing past them at first, so long as they 
are sure of their own gait. In the 440, if there is any- 
body ahead of you, at the 220th yard you must begin 
to look to overhauling him, and when at the 400th- 
yard mark grit your teeth, squeeze your corks, and get 
home as fast as you know how. Of course, in trial 
heats of a 440, get your place as easily as you can. 

To the 880 men I would sav that if at the end 



TRACK ATHLETICS 47 

of the first quarter anybody who has gone up is still 
ahead of you, you must begin to pick him up, and by 
the time you reach the 660th-yard mark you ought to 
be close behind him, or if he is known to be a fast 
finisher you must pass him. Then, when you come 
into the stretch, you must fairly fly. These races take 
plenty of thinking as one runs ; and keeping cool and 
calculating the thing out will win doubtful races many 
a time. If you know there is a great runner in your 
race, it is often good policy to pick him out and dog 
his tracks, unless you feel that he is setting an un- 
usual pace purposely. If you find him going slow 
of your gait, you had better move up rather than let 
him keep you back, because he can probably make too 
long a burst for you later in the race. 

Mile runners take half and three-quarter distances 
always under time, and finish fast. In a race they 
should stick to their own pace, particularly in the first 
quarter; but when they reach the last quarter, it is time 
to begin to pick up the leader, and in the stretch run 
the last bit out. Mile men should also break out of 
the crowd at the start, the same as the 440 and 880 
men. It is well to say, also, that all these men should 
be kept off the hard sidewalks both in their winter 
and other running or walking, as far as possible. It 
is not necessary in winter to practise every day, par- 
ticularly for preparatory school-boys, who should prac- 
tise only three times a week. An occasional day off, at 
the discretion of the captain or coach, after track 
work has commenced, is not a bad thing either. 

Hurdlers should practise their take-off and sprint- 
ing, and should negotiate about three hurdles at a 



48 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

time in practice. The usual three-step method is pre- 
ferred for the high hurdles, and the jump and stride 
should be a jump clearing close to fourteen feet, next 
step five feet, next six, next five again, then flight. 
Of course these steps will vary slightly, but that illus- 
trates the principle. When learning this three-step 
the novice should place the hurdles sufficiently near 
together to enable him to get his stride, then he can 
increase the distance as his strength increases until he 
reaches the regulation ten yards. In mid-season the 
hurdler should occasionally go over six or seven hur- 
dles, and three weeks before the race, the full course. 
Then again, he should go over that number once ten 
days and once the week before. When a hurdler 
goes to the mark, it is well to tell him as a parting 
injunction not to look around, and never to mind if 
he touches or knocks down a flight or misses his 
stride; but to go on and win. Mile walkers practise 
fast quarters, with occasional half and three-quarters, 
then good jogs of distance. The walkers, together 
with the weight-throwers, should have some expert 
to teach them at the start the proper motions, as 
these cannot be accurately and concisely described in 
print without the aid of practical illustration. The 
pole-vaulters should have good winter practice upon 
the parallel bars; and indoor practice at vaulting is also 
simple nowadays. At the field they should practise 
sprinting and take-off, as should also the jumpers. 
American pole-vaulters do not climb their poles — that 
is, move the hands up the pole after taking-off, as do 
some of the Englishmen; but the motion is a single 
one. All jumpers and vaulters should start easily 



TKACK ATHLETICS 49 

for their run, and then, striking their mark and get- 
ting into their stride, go to the take-off with speed and 
confidence. They should be told just before going into 
the contest to keep cool and not to permit the bar to be 
put up any faster than they want it. Broad jumpers 
should, in addition to their sprinting and take-off prac- 
tice, try getting up well into the air. Sometimes it is 
even best to put a string, about a foot and a half high 
and twelve or fourteen feet from the take-off, to tempt 
them up. Some excellent authorities, however, are 
against this plan. 



BOWING 

" No boy or man should be allowed to go in for school or college 
rowing until he can swim." 

THE English universities had had many a hard 
contest at the oar before the American uni- 
versities took up boating. In 1829 Oxford defeated 
Cambridge ; then no race was rowed until 1836, when 
Cambridge turned the tables and won not only that 
race, but the next succeeding three. The first college 
boat-club in America was formed at Yale in 1843, and 
in the fall of the next year the Oneida Boat Club was 
organized at Harvard. This was a club of juniors, and 
was followed a few weeks later by the Iris Boat Club, 
organized by the seniors. In the spring of 1816 there 
were three boat-clubs at Harvard, which united in build- 
ing a boat-house. In 1852 a challenge was received 
from Yale, and, upon its acceptance, a race was rowed 
at Lake Winipiseogee, August 3d. Harvard won this 
race, as also the next one, which was rowed in 1855 at 
Springfield. In 1853 there were at Yale six active boat- 
clubs, which formed themselves into the Yale Navy, — 
although this was not legally incorporated until 1863. 
Harvard's clubs by the time of the 1855 race had also 
increased in number to five, but it was not until 1869 
that the Harvard University Boat Club was formed. 
Although the first race, that in 1852, had been rowed 

50 



BOWING 51 

in eight-oared barges with coxswains, the race in 1855 
had two six-oared barges with coxswains entered from 
Yale, while Harvard sent one eight-oared barge with 
coxswain, and a four-oared lapstreak boat without 
coxswain. In 1859 all the entries were six-oared boats, 
although the rigging differed as well as the style of 
boats. Six-oared boats were adhered to throughout the 
number of years of the intercollegiate regattas until, 
in 1876, Yale and Harvard rowed their first eight-oared 
race at Springfield. The distance rowed has, like the 
boats, gone through a variety of changes since the inau- 
guration of college races. The first race was over an 
approximately two-mile straightaway course, but from 
that time until 1872, the races were over a course of a 
mile and a half and return. In that year a three-mile 
straightaway course was adopted and adhered to until 
Yale and Harvard began the eight-oared races, when 
the course was altered to a four-mile straightaway. 
English oars have consistently adhered to the straight- 
away course and to long distance, rowing now a course 
a furlong over four miles. Since 1857 they have 
rowed in what was practically the present style of 
eights, although the present oar, rigging, sliding seats, 
etc., have been later additions. The first six-oared shell 
in America was built for Harvard in 1857. It was 
forty feet long and twenty-six inches wide, made of 
white pine, at a cost of two hundred dollars. It weighed 
one hundred and fifty pounds. Spoon oars were used 
in this boat. Since that time both cedar and paper 
boats have been used, and there is talk about the pos- 
sibility of aluminium. For smaller boats this has 
already been tried, but there is doubt of its availability 



52 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS 

for eight oars. College boat -racing in America was at 
its height, so far as the number of crews entered was 
concerned, in the days of the National Rowing Associa- 
tion of American Colleges. This was formed in 1872, 
and the regattas were held at Springfield, on the Con- 
necticut River. Then Saratoga was adopted as the 
course, and in 1875 the following thirteen colleges sent 
crews : Amherst, Bowdoin, Brown, Columbia, Cornell, 
Dartmouth, Hamilton, Harvard, Princeton, Union, 
Wesleyan, Williams, and Yale. The Massachusetts 
Agricultural and Trinity had crews in the two preced- 
ing years. With the withdrawal of Yale and Harvard 
this organization fell to pieces, and to-day the race 
between these two universities at New London is the 
only one which is rowed regularly every year. 

Of all the college sports this one of rowing makes 
the most stringent demands upon a man's unselfish 
devotion. In base-ball and foot-ball there is the stimu- 
lus and excitement of frequent, almost daily, games, 
and in track athletics there are plenty of brushes with 
friends, and occasional outside contests, to give a 
pleasant interest. In boating, although there are 
many days during the season when the old as well 
as the new oar finds an enjoyment in the sport itself, 
there is usually but one day of contest, — one day of 
supreme effort, — and the struggle for which all the 
labor of six months has been undergone is all over 
in a brief twenty minutes. To be prepared for this 
day, to be fit to represent the university, a man 
goes through months of training and many a day of 
hard work, when there are no enthusiastic admirers 
applauding the effort, and when oftentimes even the 



BOWING 53 

weather seems to be possessed of a vindictiveness 
against the oarsman. Such a sport requires preemi- 
nently men of strong character, men in whom per- 
severance and patience are marked traits. A boating 
man must make himself. Not all the coaches in the 
world can do for him that part of the work which per- 
sistent, plodding effort to master each detail can alone 
accomplish. A coach may correct a fault, but faults 
in rowing are apt to be like the formed habits of 
mature life, almost ingrained, and to eradicate them 
requires the steadily fixed and unflagging attention of 
the individual himself. At first it is a distinct effort at 
every stroke for him to avoid a lapse into his old or na- 
tural way. For days, and it may be for weeks, he feels 
that he must think every time ; but then there comes 
a day when it is more natural and easy to do it the 
right way than the old way, and his lesson is learned. 
But this is only one fault, and lucky indeed would be 
the oarsman who found he had but one fault to correct. 
In fact it is a wonder that more men do not become 
discouraged in their early attempts; but the man 
who goes in for this sport, and sticks doggedly at 
it, putting his whole thought and attention upon the 
instructions he is receiving, reaps in the end the 
reward for all his labors. To some men, rowing, so 
far as eventually securing a seat in the 'varsity boat, 
is as much out of the question as becoming a 'varsity 
ball-player. There is a knack about rowing as about 
any other game of skill, but patience and perseverance 
have made boatingmen out of some terribly unpromis- 
ing material, so that one can hardly feel justified in 
saying to any man, "You '11 never be an oarsman." 

4* 



54 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

Some of the best rneu in Harvard and Yale boats 
have been men who during their first year — yes, even 
their second year — have been looked upon by the 
coaches as decidedly doubtful. Besides the monotony 
of the rower's training, there must also be considered 
the fact that in the great final contest the oarsman 
does not come into actual contact with his opponent; 
and so there is lacking the usual stimulus to outdo 
that is so marked in foot-ball, and present to less extent 
in the other sports. It is here that the result of the 
dogged determination is seen; and the same earnest 
patience which makes the old oarsman take kindly 
the coach's severest criticisms and put his whole 
mind into correcting a trifling fault, now drives him 
on when every stroke is a pain and his whole strength 
seems exhausted. In selecting a man for the boat, 
therefore, this quality of being willing to die with 
no one but himself to fight is a sine qua non, and often 
gives a seat to a man whose skill may be less than 
a rival's. Besides this, quickness of action and adap- 
tability to changing circumstances are of great impor- 
tance. Thus it is seen that many components — 
strength, skill, quickness, perseverance, and bull-dog 
pluck, with a cheerful acquiescence to hardships and 
sacrifices — must be nicely balanced in the oarsman; 
and the selecting of their men to answer these require- 
ments is the most difficult task of captains and coaches. 
The fact that a suitable bitr of water must be near 
at hand makes taking up the sport of rowing, in any 
college or school, something more difficult than is 
the case with foot-ball or base-ball. But the English 
bumping-races show the possibility of using even a 



KOWING 55 

narrow course, and the roughness of the Sound, and 
the oyster stakes in Mill River at New Haven, as 
well as the bad water often on the Charles at Boston, 
go far toward showing that a still-water lake is by no 
means necessary to the development of the pastime. 
Naturally the choice location for a course upon which 
to bring up and train crews would be a placid lake, 
long enough to yield a dead-water straightaway four- 
mile course. The great advantage of dead water lies 
in the possibility not only of trying experiments in 
rigging and stroke, but of comparing one crew with 
the crew of the previous year at the same period of 
development. This gives the coaches and the captains 
a means of judging how much value there is in every 
change made either in work, training, or rig. But any 
body of water where the prevailing winds of summer 
and spring do not with too great frequency put a shell 
in imminent danger of swamping, should tempt the 
boating enthusiast to organize a crew. If the course 
can be but a mile, by rowing with a turn a two-mile 
race is possible; and many a class crew has turned out 
'varsity material upon races of that distance. In the 
matter of boats, class crews have in the past produced 
excellent oarsmen in six-oared barges, and 'varsity men 
are to-day trained in pair-oars, while the Varsity crew 
complete does its preliminary work when first on the 
water in an eight-oared barge. The eight-oared shell 
is the boat for the oarsman when he has rubbed off 
some of his faults and become accustomed to his work. 
Nothing can be prettier to the spectator, or more 
fascinating to the men themselves, than the rhythmic 
swing of those eight bodies, the dip of the eight oars, 



56 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

and that well nigh invisible bit of the boat-maker's art 
which holds the eight stalwart fellows out of water. 
But to return to the barge. The best thing that a 
school or college determining upon the organization 
of a boat-club can do, is to purchase a second-hand 
barge for their initial work. If their club is likely t< > 
depend for its races upon some rival school or college, 
the two should agree upon the number of men and 
purchase their first boats accordingly. If, on the other 
hand, there are to be no outside races, but inter-club 
contests, then pair-oars, fours, sixes, eights, — anything 
that is warranted by the number of men and the 
finances of the club. Eacing in singles, while an excel- 
lent sport, is not so good training for future crew work 
as the others, and although it teaches an individual 
many things regarding balance and watermanship, it 
does not directly fit him with any great measure of 
assurance to become a member of a crew. 

When a boat is obtained, a crew should know how to 
take care of it. It is just as well to practise upon an 
old boat and follow out the details as carefully as 
though it were just from the maker. When not in use 
it should be shelved, bottom up, upon a number of 
brackets (at least four for a sixty-foot boat), suffi- 
ciently close together to prevent any danger of warp- 
ing from sagging. It should be kept well varnished, 
with bolts, screws, etc., in tight order. Outriggers, 
locks, and stretchers should be carefully inspected 
before each row. When taken from the water, it should 
be carefully wiped both inside and out. Before a race 
it should be rubbed down with pumice-stone, smoothed 
with soapstone, and greased with oil, paraffin, or simi- 



KOWING- 57 

lar substance. An eight-oared shell made of paper 
should weigh, all rigged, from 210 to 240 pounds; if 
made of cedar, it should weigh from 230 to 275 pounds. 
A cedar boat cannot be re-rigged with as little damage 
as can the paper boat, but as a rule the cedar boat 
proves stiffer and more durable. The length should be 
from 59 to 61 feet,' the depth approximately 9 inches 
from gunwale to keel, with 4-inch wash-board above the 
gunwale. The breadth in middle should be from 22 
to 25 inches, narrowing to 16 or 18 inches at the ends 
of the cockpit. The cockpit should be about 35 feet. 
The oars should weigh approximately 7£ pounds, and 
the length be, inboard — that is, from button to end of 
handle — 3i feet, and outboard — that is, from button 
to tip of blade — 8£ feet. 

A word as to care of the oars. They should be 
treated most carefully, for any slight scratch through 
the varnish admits the water, and makes them heavy 
and lessens their spring. In landing at the float, and 
even when laid on a floor, the concavity of the spoon 
should be down so as to avoid scratching. If leather but- 
tons are used, they should be examined often, and kept 
up true and smooth. Metal buttons always keep their 
shape, and so are preferable to the leather in that point, 
and have another advantage, in that the small screws 
for attaching them weaken the oar less than the nails 
of the leather button. It is important to have the end 
of the blade and the back of the shank at the button 
exactly parallel. One can determine whether the oar is 
"true" or not by resting the shank on a straightedge 
and sighting over the end of blade. If " off," it can be 
remedied by shaving off the leather that covers the oar 



58 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

at the button on one side or the other as required. Each 
man should cut the handle of his oar to fit his own hand, 
so he can hold it easily and firmly with least effort. 

In handling a boat, there is something to be consid- 
ered beyond the mere rowing when in the water. As 
I have already indicated, the boat must be properly 
cared for at all times. If a foot-ball player uses a ball 
badly, plays with it when the weather is inclement, as 
many a time he must for practice, the expense of a 
new ball is not so great as to count for the labor neces- 
sary to prevent the ball becoming out of shape and 
ruined. The same is true of a base-ball or a bat. But 
a boat is not in the same class, and bad handling 
and lack of proper care will ruin any boat, not only 
in appearance, but for practical work and — that for 
which it is wanted — for speed. I have already noted 
how the boat is to be kept upon brackets or a rack, 
how it is to be kept well wiped, varnished, and tight 
as to bolts, screws, etc. Xow as to moving the boat. 
In taking a boat from the rack, if it be a high rack, as 
is often the case, the crew should stand under it, take 
it above their heads, and, lifting it clear, then let it 
settle between the port and starboard men. If the 
rack be low, the port men on one side and the starboard 
men on the other lift it and carry it out. It is best to 
carry it keel up, — that is, upside down, — with port men 
on starboard side and starboard men on port side, each 
man opposite his own rigger. Then when the boat is 
turned, one side reaching over and the other under, each 
man gets his own rigger in his hand. If carried keel down 
each man should be behind his own rigger. The boat 
is put in the water from the keel-up position by raising 



KOWING 59 

above the heads and the men on one side — the side 
next the water — stepping under, and all grasping the 
cross-bars and swinging down to the water together. 
It is put into the water from the keel-down position by 
one side — the shore side men — holding the boat up by 
the cross-bars while the other side crawl under the boat 
— then as above to place it in the water. The keel-up 
position is the best, and with a well-disciplined crew is 
a very pretty sight. The boat being in the water 
alongside the float, it is as well to say to the unini- 
tiated that it is not advisable to jump into an eight- 
oared racing shell in exactly the same careless manner 
in which the average excursion party boards a broad- 
beamed sail-boat. The shell would surely tip over, 
and probably some feet would go through the thin 
sides. As one looks down into the boat he sees eight 
small seats on slides, and eight inclined foot-boards (with 
straps for the feet), called stretchers. Along the exact 
center of the bottom of the boat runs a strip called the 
keelson. Running out from the sides are the out- 
riggers, through which the oars obtain their purchase. 
To get into the boat, put one foot on the keelson, and, 
bracing on seat braces, transfer all the weight to the 
foot on the keelson and lift the other daintily over, slip- 
ping it into the stretcher strap ; then, bending the knee 
of the leg bearing the weight of the body, and with 
hands on the side of the boat, let the body down into 
the seat. The oar — this depends upon the nature of the 
rowlock, however — should already be in place, and an 
experienced man will steady himself with the oar in- 
stead of the sides of the boat. The feet should always 
be tightly strapped in the stretcher. Our crew and cox- 



GO W ALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOETS 

swain being now in the boat, an assistant or two, taking 
hold of the blades of the oars that rest on the float (not 
lifting them np, however, so as to unbalance the boat), 
the end of handle being held against the opposite gun- 
wale, while the men on the other side keep their blades 
flat on the water and steady the shell, gently push the 
boat out into the stream until the oars are clear of the 
float. At this point, barring an interposition of Prov- 
idence, a crew of landsmen who had not begun as 
suggested earlier in this article with pair-oar and 
barge work, will tip over — in fact they probably would 
before reaching this point. But having gone through 
all the details in a less cranky affair, they are ready for 
shell work. The coxswain says, " Eeady ! " The eight 
oars go back to full reach and lie flat on the water — 
or the oars may be buried for the stroke. The knees 
of the men are bent and the slides all aft and the arms 
extended. " Give way ! " and the men swing up from 
the "Ready" position and the boat is off. Here we 
will leave the crew to discover how hard it is to learn 
to keep a shell on its bottom, while I revert to the 
terms used in rowing and coaching. 

"Ready all" and "Give way" have just been de- 
fined. 

" Avast " means stop rowing, and should be called 
while the oars are in the water — never on the recover 
except in an emergency. 

" Hold " means to keep the oar buried at right angles 
to the side of the boat, thus stopping her progress ; the 
plane of blade being parallel to the surface of the water. 

" Back water " means to reverse the motion of row- 
ing, driving the oar in water from stern to bow instead. 



KOWING 61 

The " Catch " is when the oars take the water on the 
stroke and the shoulders swing up. 

The "Finish" is when the oars leave the water at 
the end of the stroke. 

The "Recover" is the combination of movements 
through which an oarsman goes from the time of the 
" Finish " until he is again in position for another 
stroke, — that is, to the position for "Catch" again. 

The " Bevel " of the oar is the angle it makes with 
the plane of the water when it goes in. If this angle 
be too great the oar goes too deep, or " dives," as 
the expression has it. If too small, it does not get a 
grip. When the angle is too great it is called too little 
bevel, and vice versa. In general the bevel of the oar 
should be 5 degrees to 10 degrees from in front of the 
perpendicular, and the shoulders ought to be about 15 
to 20 degrees beyond the perpendicular at the catch, 
and considerably less at the finish. 

The term " Time " is used technically to indicate 
the unison of a crew in every movement. 

The following are the most common terms used in 
coaching a crew, with the meaning appended: 

" Bucks " or " Meets the oar " is the expression used 
to indicate meeting the oar with the body at finish when 
the arms are pulled in. The body here should be per- 
fectly rigid. 

" Slumps." Settles down with shoulders and upper 
body at the finish, so that back is crooked and muscles 
relaxed. 

"Rushes slide." On recover allows slide to run the 
oarsman by the momentum of the boat, rather than 
holding it in check with the feet on the stretcher. 



G2 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

u Loses control of slide " has similar meaning. 

" Swings out," that is, fails to keep in line over the 
keel so that the men are not in line. When a crew 
swing out, as one looks along the boat their bodies 
appear to be making a scissors motion as they row. 

u Gets in late." The oar goes into the water after the 
others, or the swing up with the shoulders is too slow 
and breaks the time. 

" Gets out late." The oar drags at finish and backs 
water. 

" Short on catch " means not getting the oar in the 
water far enough toward bow. This may be due to 
either too short rigging or too little body reach. 

" Drops on catch" means that the oarsman allows his 
shoulders to go toward the stern of the boat just as his 
oar takes the water. 

"Clips" means to miss the first part of a stroke, 
rowing it in the air. 

The management of the boat while in use is impor- 
tant both as a help to perfection in rowing and for the 
preservation of the shell in the best possible condition. 
When not rowing the blades should rest fiat on the 
water, the handles being held firmly, and the boat always 
balanced on an even keel. If in the racing boat, hold- 
ing water should be done as little as possible and 
lightly, to avoid the strain it throws on the rigging and 
bracing. In turning, one side should pull around very 
easily (always in time for the sake of practice), the 
other side having the oars flat on the water and never 
holding or backing while first side is rowing, as this 
strains the boat badly. In meeting a swell it should 
be taken full broadside with the boat riding and falling 



BOWING 63 

in trough. If taken at any angle the strain is tremen- 
dous, and will weaken the best boat. 

It is well to have the coxswain give all orders for 
rowing, stopping, etc., the captain giving them to him. 
Emergency orders, as " hold," however, must not wait 
for repeating, and any order from the coxswain must 
be obeyed at once, for he is the pilot. 

There is one part of the coach's and captain's duties 
about which the general public hears but little, and 
upon which practical knowledge is a most important 
component toward making a winning crew. That part 
is the " rigging," or, commonly speaking, the arrange- 
ment of each individual in the boat, so that he may by 
proper use of his seat, stretcher, outrigger, and oar, get 
the maximum power into his stroke at the minimum 
expenditure of strength, and so that the entire crew 
may act as a most harmonious whole. What the proper 
timing and the concerted action of men in a team play 
is to foot-ball, the rigging is to a boat crew. A poorly 
rigged crew make hard work of keeping time, — they 
may be rigged so badly as to make time almost im- 
possible, — become quickly exhausted from being com- 
pelled to do their work in awkward positions, and, 
finally, that work is performed at a mechanical dis- 
advantage. 

To cover the detail of rigging exhaustively would 
be to take up measurements which could be multiplied 
almost indefinitely; but it is possible to give some 
general directions that will enable the captain of 
brains to adjust his crew satisfactorily by careful 
scrutiny and following out the principles. The rig- 
ging should be so arranged that when a man is on full 



Gi WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

reach he will get his oar into the water at about five 
to seven feet forward of the thole-pin, and bring it 
out at finish from four to five feet aft of the thole- 
pin. His outrigger should be high enough above the 
water, so that his hands eomfortablv clear his knees 
on the recover, with oar-blade four inches above the 
water, or about 7J to 8J inches above his seat. The 
seat is, according to the man, from six to nine inches 
from the bottom of the boat, and the slide from fifteen 
to twenty inches in length. This slide is on a pitch 
aft of one inch. In general, a short man must have 
a higher seat and must come farther aft of thole-pin, 
in order that he may get a longer reach. He is also 
forced to reach farther forward with his shoulders 
and swing back farther. 

" The stroke," as commonly spoken of, means the 
entire action of the oarsmen of a crew in propelling 
the boat by the repetition of the motions connected 
with the repeated plunging of the oars into the water. 
This action is divided into two component parts — the 
stroke proper, and the recover. The stroke proper 
lasts from the time the oar is put into the water — 
4, the catch' 1 — until it leaves the water at "the finish." 
The "recover" is from the time the oar leaves the 
water until it again enters it. The stroke consists of 
three parts — the catch, the pull through, and the 
finish; while the recover consists of the feather, the 
carrying back over the water, and the turning up for 
the catch. During the stroke the oarsman swings up 
with his shoulders, kicks out his slide until his knees 
are nearly straight, and, finally, brings oar to body 
with his arms. During the recover he performs these 



KOWING 65 

movements in reverse order and manner, getting his 
hands out, his knees bent, and his shoulders forward, 
ready for the next stroke. The art of the oarsman lies 
in doing these things in the proper order and time, 
nntil the entire act is as smooth and rhythmic as the 
stroke of a bird's wing. The stroke may be subdi- 
vided indefinitely, many giving it over a score of com- 
ponent parts; but that is more for the theoretical 
study of it than for the novice or ordinary boating man. 
In training crews a very important feature is under- 
standing how much work they should be called upon 
to perform daily, and what the nature of that work 
should be. It is just as advisable that the preparation 
for a boat race should be gradual as it is that a man 
should learn to read before undertaking advanced 
studies. In many sports nature speaks out at once 
when a man is forced. For instance, if a man with- 
out training should undertake to run a mile at full 
speed, it is probable that he would sink exhausted 
or become afflicted with violent nausea before he had 
gone half the distance. But in boating there might 
not be so apparent an outcry against overtaxing the 
novice, and yet no good could come from it, and much 
harm might. Moreover, looking at it from the stand- 
point of the captain, overtraining means that his crew 
will lose the race. It is well, therefore, to follow 
the course of training adopted for a 'varsity crew or 
college. The English rowing men do not take so long 
a course as Americans; but boating is more general, 
and the material is usually well broken in before it 
reaches the hands of the president of the boat-club. A 
Harvard or Yale 'varsity crew, after what little work 



66 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

they may perform on the water in the fall, really settle 
down or go into training in midwinter, after the Christ- 
mas vacation. Their winter work consists of a bit 
of general exercise in the form of various move- 
ments, intended to increase the freedom of action and 
strength of the muscles used in rowing. This lasts, 
perhaps, fifteen minutes. Then the crew start out for 
a jaunt, mostly an easy run, broken up by occasional 
spurts and walks, which, beginning very moderately, 
lengthen out after a few weeks to a distance of several 
miles, returning to the gymnasium well blown. After 
a short rest they go down for tank work, — that is, 
to sit in a boat which is stationary, while they drive the 
water around through its channel with the oars. Of 
course the likeness to real rowing is decidedly crude; 
but there is enough similarity to make it possible and 
practicable to coach men for the later work upon the 
water. This tank work is not a long-continued pull, 
but broken up by frequent stops, while the coach 
explains to the crew in general or to the individual 
the faults and how to remedy them. After this work, 
lasting perhaps an hour, the men take their bath, and 
are well rubbed down. This winter work of the crew 
is usually performed in the afternoon, and gives a man 
a short time to rest before dinner. Until the water is 
clear and the weather a little less than bitterlv cold, 
the tank or gymnasium work continues ; but with the 
very earliest possible opening the captain takes his 
crew to the boat-house and gets them upon real water 
in a barge. As this is likely enough not until April, 
the men are in fair physical condition to stand work. 
When a crew gets upon the water, the judicious 



ROWING 67 

captain or coach knows that the work is not like that 
of the field sports, where the time occupied is, and 
should be, almost the same daily after the men settle 
down to mid-season work. Some days the coaching 
upon a particular fault may keep a crew out for 
hours and yet the actual labor not be excessive; and 
again at other times a straight, long pull may be advis- 
able where the rowing is kept up every minute of the 
time the men are out. The duration of the practice, 
therefore, varies, say from one to two and a half hours. 
Short, hard pulls, with coaching, are necessary for the 
eradication of individual faults; while if a crew is 
" badly together " (that is, rowing each man for himself 
without regard for time), a long, easy pull of five or six 
miles "shakes them together" (that is, makes them row 
more alike and as a unit) the best of anything. Once 
or twice a week the distance to be pulled in the race 
should be rowed over on time. On these days only a 
little light work should be done, consisting of spurts 
and coaching pulls. During the week of the race 
there is no special modification, except very light work 
for the two days preceding the event. If a crew can 
row twice a day instead of once, two hours on the 
water in the morning — if not too hot — in coaching 
individual rowing, and the same in the afternoon, 
can be endured; but the captain and coach must 
watch his men very carefully, particularly the ones 
likely to become overtrained. Boating men speak 
of a man as "going fine," and mean by that that 
he is on the border-line of becoming overtrained or 
" stale." The indications are loss of appetite, general 
laziness and indisposition, with tired, aching feelings 



68 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOETS 

in the muscles and bones. There is a bad taste in 
the mouth and poor sleep, maybe persistent insomnia, 
and a failure to gain from day to day the weight 
rowed off. Ordinarily this loss and gain of weight 
should be from two to four pounds, although it often 
reaches six or even seven. The only treatment for 
this condition of fineness is rest, either partial or, if 
necessary, complete. A change from the diet of the 
training-table should be enjoyed if case be obstinate, 
and in worse cases a few days' change of residence will 
work a cure. Drugs are useless, and worse. Cham- 
pagne and claret may be of use in case it is so late in 
the season that a rest cannot be afforded. 

A freshman crew can in the main stand a similar 
course of work, although there may be instances occa- 
sionally where the youth of some individual member 
will make a little less desirable. 

A school crew, where the boys are from fifteen to 
nineteen years old, should average from a half hour 
to an hour and a half of work a day, and pull the 
length of course to be rowed once or twice a week. 

In regard to the time a crew should leave the barge 
and take to shell rowing, it may be said that in general 
the earlier the better, after they have mastered the 
rudiments. The change should never be made, how- 
ever, till the barge is perfectly balanced, and the crew 
is able to row in good time, and no glaring faults are 
apparent. 

While in the barge the stroke should vary from 
22 to 26 to the minute. On entering the shell it should 
remain at that number till the boat runs well on an 
even keel, when it can be gradually raised to the top 



KOWING 69 

point at which the crew can row, this varying with 
different styles of rowing : the present average is about 
34 to 36, except on spurts. 

If, as is almost invariably the case, some man finds 
himself the possessor of an obstinate fault, the place 
for him is the pair-oar, no matter at what season of the 
year. Either with his coach or alone, he can often find 
and remedy the difficulty in a short time, whereas in 
the cranky and rapidly moving shell he is completely 
at a loss how to act. 

Perhaps nothing is of more interest to the athlete 
than a study of past methods and deductions made by 
his predecessors in any sport, and the man who makes 
a study of these often has at hand explanations and 
suggestions in cases coming up in his own time, which 
are of great value to himself and his fellows in deter- 
mining a course of action. To no branch of American 
athletics does this apply with greater force than to 
boating, because in that sport we still adhere in the 
principal points to almost the same general line as that 
prevailing in England for a long series of years. The 
Englishmen have little base-ball, cricket taking its 
place. In foot-ball we have wandered far from the 
original principles of Eugby Union ; in track athletics 
there is little in the way of apparatus, and the ques- 
tions of training simply differ for climatic reasons; but 
in boating, the general rigging, the stroke and meth- 
ods have a peculiar interest for us, and I shall therefore 
go into some of the comments of English authors upon 
the rowing of the universities, giving some of the old 
as well as later ideas expressed by men thoroughly 
familiar with the sport. An English authority says, 



70 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

most properly, that training is "putting the body 
with extreme and exceptional care under the influence 
of all the agents which promote its health and strength, 
in order to enable it to meet extreme and exceptional 
demands upon its energies." And the best English 
authorities upon training insist upon the progressive 
system of very gradual development. But for all that, 
their university crews do not as a rule spend nearly as 
long a period of time in this progressive preparation 
as do American boating men. But in the selection 
of their men, they do lay particular stress upon the 
importance of selecting men of good build in the upper 
body and chest. They look for men whose lungs and 
heart have plenty of room, and one of their authorities 
gives the following measurements of a man who rowed 
number seven in one of the Oxford University boats 
as being those of one of the best specimens of both 
muscular and respiratory power he had ever seen: 
Age, 21 years; height, 5 feet 9J inches; weight, 11 
stone 6 pounds ; chest, 40 inches ; forearm, 12 inches ; 
upper arm, 14 inches. As will be seen, this man was 
no giant, but his chest was of the kind that English 
boating men like to note in their candidates. In con- 
tradistinction to this, let me instance the case of a man 
who was advised particularly not to go into boating, 
but who was found rowing in one of the minor college 
boats. This man's measurements were as follows: 
Age, 19 years ; height, 5 feet 9 inches ; weight, 9 stone 
3 pounds ; chest, 32 inches ; forearm, 9J inches ; upper 
arm, 9f inches. As far as possible, they dislike to have 
any man take up rowing who at eighteen years of age 
has not a minimum chest development of thirty-six 



KOWING 71 

inches. In training, their diet is as liberal as ours, and 
with perhaps more freedom in the use of beer, or ale, 
as we call it. Not to too greatly alarm the friends 
and relatives of any man who may be selected for a 
coxswain in an American boat, let me instance the 
course of training for one of these much-abused candi- 
dates in an English boat. "For a week before and 
during the week of the race, pills and Turkish baths 
twice a week, running daily in heavy clothing, and 
food as little as would sustain life." But if a man is 
willing to pay for the pleasure of having eight magnif- 
icent fellows row him about for weeks, he must expect 
the bill to come rather high ; and no one, I believe, has 
had the temerity to advance the sport of coxswaining 
as one that produces marked physical development. 
One of the most interesting studies of English boating 
men was that made some twenty years ago by Mr, 
Morgan of Oxford, in pursuance of the inquiry as to 
the number of university oars benefited or injured by 
the sport. He followed up every man who sat in the 
'varsity crews from 1829 to 1869, during which period 
26 races had been rowed. There were 294 of these 
men, of whom 255 were living, 39 having died, and 
his final conclusions were as follows: 

Benefited by rowing ... 115 

Uninjured 162 

Injured , 17 

This was in the days before the more careful system 
of training and selection had been adopted. Some of 
the letters he received and some of his comments are 



72 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

of deep interest to oarsinen, and carry a pleasant senti- 
ment in the lines. 

From Bengal writes McQueen : "I am now a stout man weigh- 
ing fifteen stone, but able to be in the saddle all day without 
fatigue, or, if necessary, walk my ten or fifteen miles without dis- 
tn SS." I wonder if he still possesses the same hand-power that 
he had in his youth ? He had simply the strongest hand and 
wrist I have ever known, and never did I place my own palm 
in his without setting my teeth close. His was the true Hercu- 
lean build. Nind writes from Queensland: ''Since taking my 
degree in 1855, my constitution has been put to the test in many 
climates, for I have lived in Canada, on the west coast of America, 
and in Australia, and I can safely aver that I have never, in trying 
circumstances, found any failure of physical power ; and that when 
hard pressed by fatigue and want of food, the recollection of the 
endurance developed by rowing and other athletics gave me fresh 
spirit and encouragement." And yet Nind was not naturally a 
powerful man. His frame was the very antithesis to that of Mc- 
Queen. Those who remember him as he first came to the university, 
will recall his exquisitely molded features, almost feminine in their 
softness and sweetness of expression. Schneider writes from New 
Zealand : " I may state that, so far as I am concerned, I am able to 
discover no particular symptoms, either good, bad, or indifferent, at- 
tributable to rowing." Then follow other letters, and these lines : 
" In the list of oarsmen, certain names are printed in italics, — not 
many, thank God ! — a small percentage only. They have rowed out 
their life-race. They rise before my mind's eye as I first knew them. 
Brewster's magnificent form toweling half a head above his stalwart 
shipmates. Invalided from his regiment, caught cold by returning 
wet froni a Brighton Volunteer Review, died from its effects. Pole- 
hampton, the chivalrous, the geutle, the brave ! Decorated while at 
college with the Royal Humane Society's Medal, for saving a com- 
panion from drowning at his own imminent peril. Shot through the 
body at Lucknow. — and died of cholera while attending to his com- 
rades stricken by the same malady. The very career he would have 
marked out for himself had it been left to his hand to trace it ! 
Hughes, the accomplished, the frank, the manly, — the very nature 



KOWING 73 

that, speaking in our love and in our pride, we emphatically style 
the beau-ideal of an English gentleman, — died last year of in- 
flammation of the lungs." 



Who knows but that some one will write a list of 
the memorable names in our American sports, men 
who sat in our boats, and played upon our fields? 
And that list will contain names that mean as much 
to us as these do to the Englishman. 

The Rev. T. H. T. Hopkins of Magdalen College, 
Oxford, wrote as follows of the sliding seat nearly 
twenty years ago. " The mechanism of the sliding seat 
consists of two runners or rails formed of glass, brass, 
hardwood, or other suitable material on which the 
rower's seat slides to and fro in a direction parallel to 
the keel of the boat. Friction is obviated by the intro- 
duction of friction wheels ; the traverse fore and aft is 
limited by stops. The effect of this seat on the rowing 
work may be stated briefly as follows: In order to 
obtain the necessary traverse for the oar, we require a 
backward and forward motion of about three feet 
each way. This reach, as it is called when speaking of 
the motion forward, is attained on fixed seats by inclin- 
ing the shoulders and trunk of the body from the hips 
as far forward as possible, and by extending the arms 
straight out to their fullest stretch, the knees being at 
the same time somewhat bent up ; on the sliding seats 
the same, or, to speak more correctly, a longer reach is 
attained, partly by inclining the trunk of the body for- 
ward, but not to the same extent as with the fixed seat, 
partly by sliding the whole body forward on and with 
the seat, partly by extension of the arms as in the fixed 



74 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

seat, the knees, however, being considerably more bent. 
We shall probably be near the mark in stating that 
the body of a rower on a fixed seat moves through 
about 90 degrees; on a sliding seat through about 
45 degrees." 

One crew, when practising for the Henley regatta 
of 1872, adopted them and increased its speed, at its 
first row, by twenty seconds over the Henley course, 
though four oarsmen out of the eight had never rowed 
on sliders before. 

Mr. Knollys of Magdalen College, Oxford, writes: 
"The difference of sliding and fixed seats is the same 
as if one were to try and raise a great weight off the 
floor between or over the knees. In fixed seats the 
muscles of the leg and those of the small of the back 
are used about equally, and in sliding seats the mus- 
cles of the leg, especially those just above the knee, 
are used about twice as much as those of the back. 
My idea of correct sliding is to row for about four 
inches in the ordinary way, and then kick as hard 
as one can." 

Mr. Knollys thus sets forth what he considers the 
great advantage of the sliding seat: "I think they do 
not pump one so soon. Most men's wind gets ex- 
hausted before their muscles, and on a sliding seat 
one does not get blown so soon as on a fixed one. The 
reason for this I take to be, that all the work is done 
with the body in an almost upright position. There 
is not nearly so much movement of the body, and 
none of the pressure of the legs against the abdomen 
and ribs when forward." The above are nearly all 
collected from the opinions by Mr. McLaren, in his 



ROWING 75 

book upon training. He also gives the description 
of a practical test made by the Rev. Mr. Hopkins, 
and confirmed by the investigation followed by Pro- 
fessor Haughton, of the University of Dublin, to de- 
termine the actual force employed in the propulsion 
of an eight-oared shell at racing speed. Mr. Hopkins 
weighted an eight-oared shell with sand-bags, to match 
an average crew. This boat was then towed by a 
line upon which was a dynamometer, and the cal- 
culation showed that a force of 63 lbs. would be 
required to propel a boat at the rate of 9 miles an 
hour, or a mile in 7 minutes. He goes on to say, 
however, that the formula would prove true only 
within limits, and only approximately so at high 
speeds. Professor Haughton, working out the same 
problem, on the basis of a mile in 7 minutes, showed 
that the work done per man is 18.56 foot-tons in 7 
minutes, or 2.65 foot-tons each minute, and also 
gives us the rule. "The work done per minute by 
a boat's crew varies as the cube of the velocity. 
Thus a double speed requires an eightfold work per 
minute." Comparing the work done in rowing a mile 
at racing speed, or in 7 minutes, with the work done by 
one of his eight-oared crew, weighing 11 stone 4 lbs., — 
158 lbs., — in racing costume, walking 1 mile, he has 

Rowing 18.56 foot-tons. 

Walking 18.62 " 

If, then, one may take the Englishman's conclusions 
after many years of boating experience, the sport is far 
from dangerous, and one in which the man of sound 
body will always find pleasure and profit. 



A REMARKABLE BOAT RACE 

AS SEEN FROM THE REFEREE'S LAUNCH 

IT was the day of the long-talked-of Atalanta-Yale 
race ; and every one was on the tip-toe of expec- 
tancy at the thought of the question of boating su- 
premacy to be settled between the champion ama- 
teur eight and the champion college eight. Experts in 
boating matters had expressed differing opinions as to 
the probable result, and every one at all interested in 
rowing had read of the merits of the rival crews. The 
general opinion was that the Atalantas would lead for 
at least two miles, and then would strain every nerve 
to hold that advantage to the end of the four miles 
which had been agreed upon as the distance. The race 
was to be rowed between the hours of ten and seven, at 
any time when the conditions of wind, tide, and water 
were most favorable. At nine o'clock the wind had 
sprung up ; and the crews, referee, and judges, who 
were assembled at the Yale boat-house in preparation 
for the start, began to cast dubious looks at the flags 
as they stood out straight from the poles in the fresh- 
ening breeze. The course had been laid out in the 
harbor, extending four miles direct from the outside 
breakwater to the end of Long Wharf. The boat-house 
stood a mile back from the long pier, and the boats of 
both crews were here housed until the referee should 



A KEMAKKABLE BOAT KACE 77 

order them out for the race. The Long Wharf and 
boats and bridges were black with people by ten 
o'clock. Eleven o'clock, and still the wind whipped 
the water into waves, not high, but too rough for the 
low eight-oared shells to ride without danger of becom- 
ing filled before the four miles could be rowed. Now 
the only hope of the weather-wise was that on the turn 
of the tide, just after noon, the wind would slacken. 
This hope proved well founded, for by twelve o'clock 
the flags were drooping, and, the water becoming 
quieter, the referee ordered out the boats, and the 
crews hastened to bring the slender shells. 

The Yale crew then jumped aboard the referee's 
steam-launch, which started down the harbor, towing 
the shell. A steam-tug performed the same offices for 
the Atalantas. As the two little steamers puffed down 
past the piers, the " Rah ! rah ! — Yale ! " of the college 
sympathizers mingled with the cheers of the friends of 
the Atalantas. By the time they reached the start- 
ing-flag, the course was by no means bad except at 
a few exposed points. The two crews at once crept 
gingerly into their cranky shells, and paddled up to 
the line. 

Soon the shells were in place ; the referee called out, 
" Are you ready ? " and then his " Go ! " rang out like a 
pistol-shot. The sixteen oar-blades were buried, and the 
two boats sprang forward like unleashed hounds, the 
Yale bow a trifle to the fore. Now for the lead ! The 
Yale crew have been told that they must not be 
alarmed if the Atalantas should at first succeed in 
obtaining the coveted lead, but they have also been 
instructed to " spurt " up to thirty-five strokes to the 



78 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

minute (which is two or three above their regular 
number) rather than let these sturdy rivals have their 
own way at this point. Both crews are putting forth 
all their strength ; the Yale blades splash a little more 
than those of the Atalantas, but nevertheless the 
power of their stroke keeps them still a foot ahead. 
Almost stroke for stroke they row, but now the Yale 
boat is traveling more smoothly on her keel, and she 
begins to draw away. The half-mile flag is passed, 
and there is clear water between the boats. Down 
drops Yale's stroke to thirty-one, while the Atalantas' 
must remain at thirty-four. 

On they go, the space between the boats slowly 
growing until, at the mile, Yale is three lengths ahead. 
At the mile and a half they have increased this lead to 
four lengths, and it begins to look as if it were " all 
over but the shouting." The Yale blades go more 
smoothly now, and there is hardly a splash in the 
rhythmic swing of the rising and falling oars when — 
what ! stroke has ceased to row ! See the spurting 
sheet of water rising over his motionless oar! Oh, 
Allen ! — no one thought you 'd fail ! But why does he 
not recover ? The water still leaps from the dragging 
blade ; the cause is plain — he has broken his oar, and 
Yale's chances are gone ! What a pity, after their fine 
work, and with such a lead ! Allen is reaching out and 
unlocking his rowlock to set the oar free and stop its 
impeding drag upon the boat. The Yale oars go 
bravely on, not a stroke lost, although there are only 
seven oarsmen now. But the Atalantas are creeping 
up, and it is manifestly a hopeless task for those seven 
men to carry a " passenger " as heavy as Allen over the 



A KEMABKABLE BOAT BACE 79 

remaining two miles, and keep ahead of the eight in 
red, who are now steadily overhauling them. Allen has 
succeeded in freeing the broken oar, and drops the two 
treacherous bits into the water astern. Poor fellow, it 
will break his heart to watch the steady approach of 
that slender prow behind and be unable to help his 
men ! See, he turns and says something to starboard- 
stroke, and now — he is certainly going to stand up ! 
Just leaning forward, he rises as the seven oars make 
their catch and lift the boat firmly ; and, almost with- 
out a splash, over he goes, clear of the boat, which 
shoots ahead as he turns in the water and calls cheer- 
fully, "Go in and win !" A few strokes of his muscular 
arms, and he is reached by the launch, and swings him- 
self up into her bows the hero of the hour ! Now his 
crew still has a chance to win, for the loss of his oar is 
partly compensated by the decreased weight. A half 
mile will tell the story, for they have lost but a length 
or two of their lead. As they pass the next flag it is 
evident that the Atalantas are no longer gaining, and at 
the three miles they are surely dropping farther astern ! 
Only a mile more, and if the plucky little coxswain can 
keep up the courage of his seven men, Allen will have 
no cause to mourn. We are near enough to hear the 
coxswain shout, "Only a half mile more, boys; keep it 
up and we '11 beat them yet ! " The boats at the finish 
begin to see them coming, and the whistles blow and 
the cheers come rolling over the water, encouraging 
them to hold that powerful swing just a little longer. 
Two minutes — and "bang!" goes the gun on the 
judge's boat, and the Yale crew shoots by, the 
winners of one of the most remarkable races ever 



80 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

rowed. And how the boys will make heroes of them 
all! — Allen for his coolness and pluck, the coxswain 
for his skill and courage, the starboard-stroke for his 
steady work, and all the crew for their endurance 
and nerve! 



A BOAT RACE AT NEW LONDON 
IN THE EIGHTIES 

Note. — If in this race Yale wins, it is not to be taken that Yale wins 
an undue proportion of the races she rows with Harvard ; but that, being 
a Yale man, my description, if I made Harvard win, would of neces- 
sity stop after the last stroke, or else be a most doleful tale of sad, dis- 
heartened home-coming without enlivening incident, and not conducive 
to the glamour I would throw over the sport. 

IT is the end of June, and Commencement week is 
drawing to its close. The campus, with its canopy 
of old elms, has echoed with the annual shouts of class 
histories; the fence has again held the dangling limbs 
of the returning alumni, the chapel has been filled with 
the eloquence of orator and poet, and the white, stark 
old Center church has heard one more valedictory, and 
seen once again the giving of degrees. 

To the graduating-class, the end of college days for 
the first time looms up as a reality. The excitement 
of class exercises has up to this time hidden the specter 
of farewell. Yet there remains one more event; once 
more may their blood be stirred, and their enthusiasm 
aroused, before they leave old Yale behind them for 
the more serious realities of life. The boat race is yet 
to come, and every one is going. The fair friends who 
have come on to see their brothers, and the brothers of 
other girls, graduate are in a flutter of excitement over 
the final event. They have crushed one and another 

6 81 



82 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

of their pretty gowns at promenade, ball-match, and 
Commencement; bnt they appear at the depot as 
neat and trim and cool as one might wish, ready to 
set out for New London. The long excursion-train 
stands on the tracks, and from nearly every window 
nutters the blue of Yale. The cars are already crowded, 
and still they come. " Oh, I wish we 'd start ! " cries 
out a pretty girl, who is not alone in her impatience. 
At last the bell rings, and the train moves off on its 
two hours' trip to* the Thames. Stories of last year's 
victory, rehearsals of the gaiety of the past week, gos- 
sip about the rival crews beguile the time away on the 
ride, and almost before we realize it the train draws 
into New London. Here we begin to find something 
beside the blue. Crimson ribbons dangle from parasols 
and encircle straw hats. Buttons of the same brilliant 
color are seen on coats, and before we have been in the 
town long it is evident that Harvard has plenty of 
supporters. 

There is time but for a bite of luncheon, and then we 
all hurry over to the observation-train. How the sun 
beats down, and what a stew every one is in about seats. 
It is impossible for any one who has not secured seats 
in advance to get a place, and there are tales of fabu- 
lous sums asked by speculators for seats. Fortunately 
we purchased our seats several days ago, and we hurry 
about to find our car. Here it is at last, and — what a 
lark! — it is next to a Harvard car. See the red ribbons ! 
Well, they '11 make it pleasant for us if they win; but 
how we will glory over them if our boys only come in 
ahead! Is n't that a pretty girl just getting in, and 
what a stunning gown ! The cars are full as far along 



A BOAT KACE AT NEW LONDON 83 

the line as we can see, and it is time we started. There, 
there is the bell of the locomotive, and with a little 
jerk of the long train we are under way. Slowly, like 
a long serpent, the train twists along up the bank of 
the river to the starting-point, and every now and then 
we enliven its progress with a cheer, which is heartily 
answered by our Harvard rivals. At last, with a final 
jolt, this huge grand-stand of cars comes to a stop 
just beside the starting-line, where we see the diminu- 
tive steam-launches scurrying to and fro, bearing the 
instructions of the referee and starter. The two crews 
are not yet visible, and every one is craning his or her 
neck in vain attempts to catch the first glimpse of one 
or the other of the rivals. Presently there is a stir at 
the Harvard quarters over across the river, and the 
men from Cambridge are seen carrying their shell out 
on the float. Steadily they bear the fragile thing out 
to the side of the float, and we just catch a gleam from 
its shining side as the men turn it into the water. 
How daintily they step into her ! But while we have 
been watching all this through a powerful glass, another 
shell has been put into the water, and, manned by eight 
fine fellows, comes pushing its slender nose along 
toward the starting-point. "Rah! rah! rah! Yale!" echo 
the cheers from car after car along the line. Almost 
before the cheers have passed the length of the train, 
the Harvard boat comes springing along under the im- 
petus of the eight long sweeps which move like the 
legs of a great caterpillar walking the water. Now the 
red-ribboned spectators take their turn at cheering, 
and the cry of "Harvard!" rings out along the line. 
The two boats are backed up to the starting-line, 



S4 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

the referee calls out his final instructions, and then, 
as the boats are held to await the word, there conies 
a sudden hush over the crowd, through which comes 
faintly over the water the "Are you ready?" and 
almost instantly the report of a pistol. How the two 
boats jump forward, and the oars flash, and the backs 
bend ! See, the Harvard boat is drawing just a little 
ahead, but that little sends her adherents into a state 
of frenzied cheering, and as we pass behind the hill 
and lose sight of the boats, our last view shows a little 
clear water between Harvard's stern and Yale's bow. 
What a pause of anxiety it is while we drag along 
through this cut ! Just as the first cars move slowly 
out into the open again a cheer goes up that certainly 
seems to end with "Yale." Can it be that Yale is pick- 
ing up ? In a moment our car emerges, and we, too, 
set up a most undignified, but very joyful, yell, as we 
see the two boats even once more and pulling almost 
stroke for stroke. The flash of the oars just before 
the catch, the clean finish, the sway of the bodies, — 
everything moves like clockwork in both boats as they 
shoot along side by side, neither gaining any advan- 
tage. But see, where there were eight swinging bodies 
a moment ago there are nine now, and — hurrah! it is 
the Yale bow-oar who makes the first one of the nine 
bodies. A few strokes more, and number two appears 
before the Harvard bow. Yale is unmistakably draw- 
ing ahead. Oh, what a relief to feel that they are 
really pulling away from that boat which hangs so 
persistently by their side ! And what a satisfaction 
to see that though Harvard is now spurting they do 
not pull up, but simply hold their own. Now the Yale 



A BOAT BACE AT NEW LONDON 85 

stroke quickens a little, and foot by foot they draw 
ahead, until clear water shows between their stern and 
Harvard's bow. It begins to look like Yale's race now, 
surely, for as they flash by the three-mile flag there 
is a gap of more than a boat's length. But the crim- 
son crew has not yet given up. Their stroke calls upon 
them for another spurt, and one can almost feel the 
effort with which his men answer to it." Their bow is 
creeping up again, but they cannot hold it. See num- 
ber two — how his head goes over as he yanks on his 
oar! Three and five are also in dire distress, while the 
blues are pulling like a machine, and increasing their 
lead again. Past the half-mile flag they go, and the 
race is virtually over. Nothing but an accident can 
now deprive Yale of the victory. They have again 
dropped their stroke, and are pulling almost leisurely. 
Harvard makes another effort, but without gaining 
a foot, and now the steam craft set up their shrill 
whistling. The cannon on the yachts puff out their 
flashes of smoke, but the sound of the report is hardly 
heard in the din, and Yale crosses the finish line a 
winner by five lengths. Now every cheer has "Yale" 
at the end, and blue flags wave, and Yale men are shak- 
ing hands with Yale men, while the Harvard colors 
trail along in the dust, and their sympathizers are 
dumb, and another race has been lost and won. 

There is a rush for the bake-shops, and every one 
seizes what he may for himself and party, and in a 
short time we are all packed once more into the 
train for New Haven. One or two members of the 
crew are with us, and how they are cheered and hand- 
shaken and clapped on the back all the way home! 



86 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

Here is a man with his hat in his hand taking np a 
collection for fireworks. Nor does he have to do any 
begging. Bills and silver pile up rapidly in his straw 
hat, until he is obliged to make transfers to his pocket 
in order to have room for further collections. 

As soon as we pull into the station every one hur- 
ries up to the campus and New Haven House, to 
make preparations to receive the victorious crew. 
A band is engaged, and a crowd starts back with the 
musicians to march up with the boys. We have 
hardly time to get a bite of supper before the fire- 
works begin. Trinity Church bells jangle out their 
chimes of "Here 's to good old Yale, drink her 
down, drink her down." The campus is a sea of 
fire, with burning barrels and boxes, cannon crack- 
ers, Roman candles, and sky-rockets, and in the 
midst of it all we hear the blare of the cornet, 
and the banging of the drum and cymbals, as 
the crew, led by the band and followed by a 
crowd of cheering men, turn the corner of Church 
Street and come marching up Chapel Street to 
the New Haven House. When they have reached 
this spot they stop, and one of the men, whose voice 
is already so hoarse as to be entirely unrecognizable, 
waves his hat for silence. As the noise lessens for 
an instant, he shouts out, " Three times three for 

Captain ! " and the crowd responds most nobly. 

Then follows a cheer for each member of the vic- 
torious crew and the substitutes, and a final three 
times three for another victory over Harvard. Then 
the crew are taken into the New Haven House for 
a supper, while the crowd outside continue the fire- 



A BOAT KACE AT NEW LONDON 87 

works and celebration. Almost without cessation the 
crackers snap and the candles flash out their liquid 
fire until long after twelve o'clock, and it is not till 
almost daybreak that the campus becomes deserted 
and the last smoldering embers are extinguished by 
the night-watchman. And when to-morrow comes 
not one of the many pretty girls will begrudge a burnt 
hole here and there in her gown, nor the torn gloves, 
nor any of the souvenirs left by the incidents or acci- 
dents of the day, but she will go off for the summer 
and tell how she saw the Yale crew win at New Lon- 
don, and the number of candles she herself set off in 
their honor on their return. 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 

THE rules governing American foot-ball are an out- 
growth or development of the English Rugby 
foot-ball game, the very name of which at once recalls 
to every reader the well-beloved " Tom Brown." 

The credit of introducing these rules among our col- 
leges belongs entirely to Harvard, who had learned 
them from the Canadians and were at the outset won 
by the superior opportunities offered by the new game 
for strategy and generalship as well as for clever indi- 
vidual playing. After Harvard had played for a year 
or two with our northern neighbors, Yale was per- 
suaded to adopt these English rules, and in 1876 the 
first match between two American college teams under 
the Rugby Union rules was played. Since that time 
the code has undergone many changes, the greater 
number being made necessary by the absolute lack of 
any existing foot-ball lore or tradition on American 
soil. The English game was one of traditions. "What 
has been done can be done; what has not been done 
must be illegal," answered any question which was 
not fully foreseen in their laws of the game. 

For the first few years our college players spent 
their time at conventions in adding rules to settle 
vexed problems continually arising, to which the Eng- 
lish rules offered no solution. In this way the rules 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 89 

rapidly multiplied until the number was quite double 
that of the original code. Then followed the process 
of excision, and many of the old English rules which 
had become useless were dropped. During the last 
few years the foot-ball lawmakers have changed but 
two or three rules a year. The method of making 
alterations has also been perfected. 

In order to avoid the petty dissensions incident to 
contests so recent that the wounds of defeat are yet 
tender, a Rules Committee of graduates has been ap- 
pointed, and all alteration of rules is in their hands. 
They meet once a year to propose any changes that 
appear to them necessary. An Advisory Committee 
preceded this body, but with the dissolution of the Inter- 
collegiate Foot-Ball Association the Advisory Commit- 
tee disappeared. But the break in foot-ball legislation 
did not last. This Rules Committee was called into 
being by the University Athletic Club of New York, at 
the request of several of the colleges. It has been com- 
posed of non-partizan members who have carefully 
watched the sport and endeavored to foster its best fea- 
tures while legislating against any objectionable ten- 
dencies. The rules promulgated by this body have been 
the standard for all the college games in this country. 

No change, then, is possible unless suggested by a 
body of men, not immediate participants in the sport, 
who have had the benefit of past experience. This 
most excellent state of affairs was the result of sugges- 
tions emanating from an informal conference held 
some years ago in New York, at which were present 
members of the faculties of Harvard, Princeton, and 
Yale. These gentlemen were at that time carefully 



90 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

watching the growth of the sport, and were prepared 
to kill or encourage it according to its deserts. In 1894 
the University Athletic Club of New York proposed 
certain changes, which were approved by the Advisory 
Committee, and were generally adopted throughout 
the country. 

" How does the English game differ from the Ameri- 
can?" is a very common question, and in answering 
it one should first state that there are two games in 
England — one "the Rugby," and the other "the Asso- 
ciation." These differ radically, the Association being 
more like the old-fashioned sport that existed in this 
country previous to the introduction of the Rugby. 
In the Association game the players cannot run with 
the ball in their hands or arms, but move it rapidly 
along the ground with their feet — "dribble the ball," 
as their expression has it. Of course, then, a com- 
parison between our game and the Association is out 
of the question. To the Rugby Union, however, our 
game still bears a striking resemblance, the vital point 
of difference being the outlet to the "scrimmage" or 
"down." In the English game, when the ball is held 
and put down for what they call a " scrimmage," both 
sides gather about in a mass, and each endeavors by 
kicking the ball to drive it in the direction of the 
opponent's goal. Naturally, there is a deal of push- 
ing and hacking and some clever work with the feet, 
but the exact exit of the ball from the "scrummage" 
cannot be predicted or anticipated. When it does 
roll out, the man who is nearest endeavors to get it 
and make a run or a kick. The American scrimmage, 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 



91 



while coming directly from the English play, bears 
now no similarity to it. Instead of an indiscriminate 
kicking struggle we have the snap-back and quarter- 
back play. The snap-back rolls the ball back with 
his hand; the quarter seizes it and passes it to any 
man for whom the ball is destined in the plan of the 
play. In other respects, with the exception of greater 
liberties in assisting a runner, it would not be a very 
difficult task to harmonize our game with the British. 




QUARTER-BACK TAKING THE BALL. 



While the game has in the last ten years grown 
rapidly in popular favor, it would not be fair to sup- 
pose that all of the twenty or thirty thousand specta- 
tors who gather to witness one of the great matches 
have clearly denned ideas of the rules which govern 
the contest. Many of the technical terms they hear 
used are also Greek to them, and it would undoubtedly 
add to their enjoyment of the game to give a few clues 
to chief plays of interest. 

While awaiting the advent of the players, one looks 
down on the field and sees a rectangular space a little 



92 WALTEK CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

over a hundred yards long and a trifle more than fifty 
yards wide, striped transversely with white lines, which 
give it the aspect of a huge gridiron. These lines are 
five yards apart, and their only purpose is to assist the 
referee in judging distances. There is a rule which 
says that in three attempts a side must advance the 
ball five or take it back twenty yards under penalty of 
surrendering it to the opponents. The field is there- 
fore marked out with these five-yard lines, by means 
of which the referee can readily tell the distance made 
at each attempt. The gallows-like arrangements at the 
ends of the field are the goal-posts, and in order to score 
a goal the ball must be kicked over a cross-bar extend- 
ing between the posts by any kind of a kick except a 
" punt." That is, it must be by a " drop kick," which 
is made by letting the ball fall from the hand and 
kicking it as it rises from the ground; by a "place 
kick," which is from a position of rest on the ground ; 
or finally even from a rolling kick. A punt is a kick 
made by dropping the ball from the hand and kicking 
it before it strikes the ground, and such a kick can 
under no circumstances score a goal. Scoring is only 
possible at the ends of the field, and all the work one 
sees performed in the middle of the ground is only the 
struggle to get the ball to the goal. 

There are two ways in which points may be made : 
by kicking the ball, as above described, over the goal, 
and by touching it down behind the goal line. A 
"safety" is made when a side are so sorely pressed 
that they carry the ball behind their own goal line, and 
not when it is kicked there by the enemy. In the 
latter case, it is called a "touchback," and does not 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 



93 




94 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

score either for or against the side making it. A 
"touch-down" is made when a player carries the ball 
across his opponent's goal line and there has it down, 
i. e., either cries " Down " or puts it on the ground ; or 
if he secures the ball after it has crossed his opponents' 
goal line and then has it " down." Such a play entitles 
his side to a " try at goal," and if they succeed in kick- 
ing the ball over the bar, then the goal only scores and 
not the touch-down ; but if they miss the try, they are 
still entitled to the credit of the touch-down. A goal 
can also be made without the intervention of a touch- 
down — that is, it may be kicked direct from the field, 
either from a drop kick or a place kick, or even when 
it is rolling or bounding along the ground. This latter, 
however, is very unusual. In the scoring, the value of 
a field-kick goal is only five, of a goal kicked from the 
touch-down, six ; if the touch-down does not result in a 
goal it counts five, and a safety by the opponents' 
counts the other side two. 

When the game begins, the ball is placed in the cen- 
ter of the field and kicked off, as it is termed, by a 
player of the side which has lost the choice of goal. 
From that time forward, during thirty-five minutes of 
actual play, the two sides struggle to make goals and 
touch-downs against each other. Of the rules governing 
their attempts to carry the ball to the enemy's quarters, 
the most important are those of off side and on side. 
In a general way it may be said that a off side" 
means between the ball and the opponents' goal, while 
"on side" means between the- ball and one's own goal. 
A player is barred from handling the ball when in the 
former predicament. When a ball has been kicked by 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEEICA 95 

a player, all those of his side who are ahead of him — 
that is, between him and his opponents' goal — are off 
side, and even though the ball go over their heads they 
are still off side until the ball has been touched by an 
opponent, or until the man who kicked it has run up 
ahead of them. Either of these two events puts them 




A FAIR TACKLE. 



on side again. Any player who is on side may run 
with and kick the ball, and his opponents may tackle 
him whenever he has the ball in his arms. It is fair for 
them to tackle him in any way except below the knees. 
They must not, however, throttle or choke him, nor 
can players use the closed fist. The runner may push 
his opponents off with his open hand or arm, in any 
way he pleases, and ability to do this well goes far 
toward making a successful runner. 

When a player having the ball is tackled and fairly 
held so that his advance is checked, and he cannot 
pass the ball, the player tackling him cries out "Held!" 



96 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

The runner must say " Down," and the ball is then put 
on the ground for a scrimmage. Any player of the 
side which had possession of the ball can then put it 
in play. Usually the " snap-back," as he is called, does 
this work. He places the ball on the ground, and then 
with his hand rolls the ball back, or kicks it forward or 
to one side, generally for a player of his own side to 
seize. "When the ball is rolled or snapped back, the 
man who first received it is called the quarter-back, 
and he cannot advance the ball. When, however, 
it is kicked sideways or ahead, any one except the 
snap-back and the opposing player opposite him can 
run with it. 

"Free kicks" are those where the opponents are 
restrained by rule from interfering with the ball or 
player until the kick is made. At the commencement 
of the game, the side which has lost the choice of goals 
has a free kick from the center of the field ; and when 
a goal has been scored, the side which has lost it has a 
free kick from the same location. Any player who fairly 
catches the ball on the fly from an opponent's kick has 
a free kick, provided he makes a mark with his heel on 
the spot of the catch. A side which has made a touch- 
down has a free kick at the goal, and a side which has 
made a safety or a touchback has a free kick from any 
spot behind the twenty-five-yard line. This line is the 
fifth white line from their goal, and upon that mark 
the opponents may line up. 

A violation of any rule is called a foul, and the other 
side has <the privilege of putting the ball down where 
the foul was made. Certain fouls are punished by ad- 
ditional penalties. A player is immediately disquali- 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 97 

fied for striking with the closed fist or unnecessary 
roughness. A side loses a certain distance, or the 
opponents may have a free kick, as a penalty for 
throttling, tripping up, or tackling below the knees. 
For off-side play a side loses ten yards. A player 
may pass or throw the ball in any direction except 
toward his opponents' goal. When the ball goes out 
of bounds at the side, it is " put in n at the spot where 
it crossed the line by a player of the side first securing 
the ball. He bounds the ball in and kicks it; or he may, 
if he prefers, walk out with it any distance not greater 
than fifteen paces, and put it down for a scrimmage. 

Of the three individuals one sees on the field in citi- 
zen's dress, one is the umpire, one the referee, and the 
third the linesman. They are selected to see that the 
rules are observed, and to settle any questions arising 
during the progress of the game. It is the duty of the 
umpire to decide all points directly connected with the 
players' conduct, while the referee decides questions of 
the position or progress of the ball. The original rules 
provided that the captains of the two sides should 
settle all disputes ; but this, at the very outset, was so 
manifestly out of the question that a provision was 
made for a referee. Then, as the captains had their 
hands full in commanding their teams, two judges were 
appointed, and it was the duty of these judges to make 
all claims for their respective sides. These judges soon 
became so importunate with their innumerable claims 
as to harass the referee beyond all endurance. The 
next step, therefore, was to do away with the judges 
and leave the referee sole master of the field. Even 
then the referee found so much that it was impossible 



98 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

for him to watch, that it was decided to appoint a 
second man, called an umpire, to assist him. This 
umpire assumed the responsibility of seeing that 
players committed no fouls, thus leaving the referee's 
undivided attention to be devoted to following the 
course of the ball. The linesman is the latest addition. 

This has proved so wonderfully successful that the 
base-ball legislators have adopted a system of dividing 
the work between two umpires. 

There are two general divisions of players — the 
" rushers " or " forwards," so called because they con- 
stitute the front rank of the foot-ball army ; and the 
backs, called the quarter-back, the half-back or halves, 
and the full-back or goal-tend. The quarter has been 
already described. The halves, of whom there are two, 
play several yards behind the rushers, and do the kick- 
ing or running work. The goal-tend is really only a 
third half-back, his work being almost the same as 
that of the halves. 



DEVELOPMENT OF THE NAMES OF THE VARIOUS POSITIONS 

When the sport of foot-ball was first introduced 
into our American colleges the players were called, 
according to their position, forwards, half-backs, and 
goal-tends. The forwards were also sometimes spoken 
of as rushers, and the goal-tends as backs. These 
latter names, apparently, were more suited to the 
tastes of the players, so they have become more usual, 
and the terms forward and goal-tend are seldom used. 
Beyond these general divisions there were neither 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 99 

distinctive names nor, in the early days, distinctive 
duties. One of the first rushers to receive a special 
name was the one who put down the ball in a scrim- 
mage. Originally the man who happened to have the 
ball when the down was made, himself placed it on the 
ground. It soon became evident that certain men were 
unable to perform this duty so well as others, and it was 
not long before the duty was delegated to one man. 
As he usually stood in the middle, he was called the 
center-rusher. This name has since given place almost 
entirely to "snap-back," owing to the universal custom 
of playing the scrimmage by snapping the ball back 
with the hand. 

As the game, after starting with eleven players, was 
then altered to fifteen, there was an opening made by 
these increased numbers for more positions. It was 
in the first days of fifteen men that the quarter-back 
play and position first acquired proper form. There 
was not only a quarter-back, but also a three-quarter- 
back — that is, a player who stood between the half- 
backs and the backs. With the return to eleven men 
the three-quarter-back disappeared, but the quarter- 
back, or man who first received the ball from the scrim- 
mage, still remained. 

The next position to assume prominence and a name 
was that of end-rusher. The two men who played on 
the ends of the forward line found unusual opportuni- 
ties for the exercise of ingenuity in the sport, and 
their duties were more manifold than those of any 
of the other rushers. They found opportunities to 
make runs, opportunities to drop back a little and 
make fair catches of short kicks (for it was then 



100 WALTEK CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS 

quite in vogue to make a short kick at kick-off), 
opportunities of running along with a half-back and 
receiving the ball from him when he was likely to be 
stopped; in fact, to perform the duties of the position 
required so many qualities that the best all-round men 
were selected for the work, and it became quite a 
feather in a man's cap to be an end-rusher. After this 
there were but four men on the team who were not 
specifically classed and designated. These were the 
two next the ends and the two next the center. The 
latter took up the name of "guards," as they protected 
the quarter when the ball was snapped. The former 
were called " tackles," probably because, before the 
tricks in running were so highly developed as at pres- 
ent, a large share of the tackling did fall to them. 
This division of players is now universal, and each po- 
sition has duties and responsibilities peculiar to itself. 
The changes the game has undergone in its gradual 
development from the English Eugby are peculiarly 
interesting, showing as they do the inventive faculty of 
our college players. The way in which the quarter- 
back play was suggested and perfected illustrates this 
very strongly. Our players began exactly as the Eng- 
lishmen, by putting the ball on the ground, closing 
around it, and then kicking until it rolled out some- 
where. In the first season of this style of scrimmage 
play, they made the discovery that, far from being an 
advantage to kick the ball through, it often resulted 
in a great disadvantage, for it gave the opponents a 
chance to secure the ball and make a run. The players, 
therefore, would station a man a short distance behind 
the scrimmage, and the rushers in front would manage 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 101 

to so cleverly assist the kicking of the opponents as to 
let the ball come through directly to this player, who 
had then an opportunity to run around the mass of 
men before they realized that the ball had escaped. 

Soon an adventurous spirit discovered that he could 
so place his foot upon the ball that by pressing sud- 
denly downward and backward with his toe he would 
drag or snap the ball to the man behind him. At first, 
naturally, the snap-back was not sufficiently proficient 
to be always sure in his aim, but it did not take long 
to make the play a very accurate one, and in the games 
to-day, now that the hand is used instead of the foot, 
and the snap-back has undisturbed possession of the 
ball, it is unusual for the snap-back to fail in properly 
sending the ball to his quarter. 

Originally the quarter was wont to run with or kick 
the ball, but now as a rule he passes it to one of the 
halves or to a rusher who has come behind him, in- 
stead of making the run himself. The quarter then 
directs the course of the play, so that scientific plan- 
ning is possible; whereas in the old method the ele- 
ment of chance was far greater than that of skill. 

One frequently hears old players speak of the " block 
game" and its attendant evils. This was a system of 
play by which an inferior team was enabled to escape 
defeat by keeping continual possession of the ball 
while actually making but a pretense of play. So 
great did the evil become, that in 1882 a rule was 
made, which has already been mentioned, to the effect 
that a side must . make an advance of five yards or 
retreat ten 1 in three scrimmages. The penalty for not 

1 This was altered later to twenty yards. 



102 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

doing this is the loss of the ball to the opponents. 
A kick is considered equivalent to an advance, even 
though the same side should, by some error of the 
opponents, regain the ball when it comes dowu. The 
natural working of this rule, as spectators of the game 
will readily see, is to cause a side to make one or two 
attempts to advance by the running style of play, and 
then, if they have not made the necessary five yards, to 
pass the ball back to a half for a kick. The wisdom of 
this play is evident. If they find they must lose the 
ball, they wish it to fall to their opponents as far down 
the field as possible, and so they send it by a long kick 
as near the enemy's goal as they can. 

One other rule, besides this one, has had a develop- 
ment worthy of particular attention. It is the one 
regarding the value of the points scored. At first, 
goals only were scored. Then touch-downs were 
brought in, and a match was decided by a majority 
of these, while a goal received a certain equivalent 
value in touch-downs. Then the scoring of safeties 
was introduced; but only in this way, that in case no 
other point was scored a side making four less safe- 
ties than their opponents should win the match. A 
goal kicked from a touch-down had always been con- 
sidered of greater value than a field-kick goal, but it 
was not until the scoring had reached the point of 
counting safeties, that it was decided to give numeri- 
cal values to the various points in order that matches 
might be more surely and satisfactorily decided. From 
this eventually came the method of scoring as men- 
tioned earlier in this article. 

A few diagrams illustrative of the general position 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 



103 



of the players when executing various manoeuvers will 
assist the reader in obtaining an insight into the plays. 

IN GOAL 

TOUCH 

IN 

GOAL 



TOUCH 

IN 
GOAL 



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QQUJ-,- 

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TOUCH 

IN 

GOAL 



GOAL LI ME 



IGOAL I 



GOAL LINE 



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t6-e-FEET 



TWENTY FIVE 5 YARD LINE 



00 

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= js 33 o =025=2 

_ P_ Q-Q _Q_ 0_ 0_Q _ _ 



" o~o o o"o,o~" 

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— js- -*-;*-.■> 

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TWENTY FIVE YARD LINE 



60 FEET 



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GOAL LINE [— -J GOAL LINE 
IN GOAL 



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TOUCH 

IN 

GOAL 



As there are no hard-and-fast rules for these positions, 
they are dependent upon the judgment of each indi- 



104 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

> 

vidual captain; nevertheless, the diagrams indicate in 
a general way the formations most common. 

The first diagram shows the measurements of the 
field as well as the names of the general positions of 
the two teams. While the front rank are all called for- 
wards or rushers, distinctive names are given to the 
individual positions. These also are noted on this 
first diagram. 

The forwards of the side which has the kick, "line 
up" even with the ball, while their opponents take up 
their positions ten yards away. They are not per- 
mitted to approach nearer until the ball is touched 
with the foot. Of late years, now that it is the practice 
at kick-off to send the ball as far down the field as pos- 
sible, the opponents are wont to drop two forwards, 
near the ends of the line, back a few yards ; thus pro- 
viding for a short kick. The quarter takes his place 
in a straight line back from the ball some sixty or sev- 
enty feet, while the two halves and the back stand suf- 
ficiently distant to be sure of catching a long kick. 
The positions of the side kicking the ball are not so 
scattered. All their forwards and the quarter stand 
even with the ball, ready to dash down the field, while 
the halves and back stand only a short distance behind 
them, because as soon as the ball is sent down the 
field they must be in proper places to receive a return 
kick from the opponents. 

The kick-off up to 1894 was more apt to be a 
" dribble," or a touching the ball with the foot and then 
passing or running with it. The result of this was 
that the opponents massed more compactly, the halves 
and quarter not playing far down the field, and the 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEEICA 



105 



rushers at the ends not dropping back. The side 
having the kick, keeping in mind, of course, the par- 
ticular play they intended to make, assumed positions 
that should the most readily deceive their opponents, 
if possible, and yet most favor the success of their 
manceuver. 

For instance, the most common opening play was 
the " wedge " or " V." In diagrams 2 and 3 are shown 



o0 ogoo 



DIAGRAM 2. 



±H 



c?S°o 
o o 



DIAGRAM 3. 



the positions in this play. As the players "lined out" 
they assumed as nearly as possible the regular forma- 
tion, in order that their opponents might not at once 
become too certain of their intention. As soon, how- 
ever, as play had been called, one saw the rushers clos- 
ing up to the center and the player who was to make 
the running dropping in close behind the man who was to 
play the ball. Diagram 2 illustrates the position at the 
moment of the kick-off. The kicker touched the ball 
with his foot, picked it up and handed it to the runner 
who was coming just behind him. The forwards at once 
dashed forward, making a Y-shaped mass of men, just 
within the angle of which trotted the runner. Diagram 
3 shows them at this point. 

But this wedge no sooner met the opposing line, 



10G 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOETS 



than the formation became more or less unsteady, exactly 
in proportion to the strength and skill of the opponents. 
Against untrained players the wedge moved without great 
difficulty, often making twenty or thirty yards before it 
was broken. Skilful opponents would tear it apart much 
more speedily. The same principles still apply, but al- 
terations in the rules have done away with these wedges. 
Now came the most scientific part of the play — 
namely, the outlet for the runner and ball. There were 

I— i 



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DIAGRAM 4. 



/ 



o o 

DIAGRAM 5. 



two ways of successfully making this outlet. One was 
to have a running half-back moving along outside the 
wedge, taking care to be a little behind the runner, so 
that the ball might be passed to him without committing 
the foul of passing it ahead. When the wedge began 
to go to pieces, the ball was dexterously thrown out to 
him, and he had an excellent opportunity for a run, 
because the opposing rushers were so involved in break- 
ing the wedge that they would not get after him quickly. 
Diagram 4 illustrates this. The second, and by far the 
most successful when well played, was for two of the for- 
wards in the wedge to suddenly separate and in their 
separation to push their opponents aside with their 
bodies, so that a pathway was opened for the runner, so 
he might dart out with the ball. Diagram 5 shows this. 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEEICA 



107 



Mass and wedge plays have been very much curtailed, 
and with design, by the insistence upon more kicking. 
Every kick-off and free kick had come to be the signal 
for a wedge. Now, thanks to the rules, they can be 
used but seldom. 

The formation of the side which has the ball in a 
scrimmage, next occupies our attention. As stated 
before in this section, it is customary for them to make 
two attempts to advance the ball by a run before 
resorting to a kick. There is some slight difference in 
the ways they form for these two styles of play. Dia- 
gram 6 shows the formation just previous to the run. 
The forwards are lined out, blocking their respective 
opponents, while the halves and backs generally bunch 
somewhat in order to deceive the opponents as to 



J=± 



0000000 



DIAGRAM 6. 



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A/B 

0000 '000 



DIAGRAM 7. 



which man is to receive the ball, as well as to assist 
him, when he starts, by blocking off the first tacklers. 
Diagram 7 shows the line of a half-back's run 
through the rushers. A and B endeavor, as he comes, 
to separate (by the use of their bodies, for they cannot 
use their hands or arms to assist their runner) the two 
rushers in front of them, that the runner may get 
through between them. 



108 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



J=L 



DIAGRAM 8. 



Diagram 8 shows still another phase of the running- 
game, where a rusher runs around behind the quarter, 
taking the ball from him on the run and making for 

an opening on the other side, or 
even on the very end. 

Diagram 9 shows the formation 
when, having made two attempts 
and not having advanced the ball 
five nor lost twenty yards, the 
side prefers to take a kick rather 
than risk a third failure, which 
would give the ball to the opponents on the spot of 
the next " down." The formation 
is very like that for the run, ex- 
cept that the distance between the 
forward line and the halves is 
somewhat increased and the three 
men are strung out rather more. 
Let us now consider the forma- 
tion of the opposing side during 
these plays. There is but one formation for the op- 
ponents in facing the running- 
game, and that is according to 
diagram 10. Of course they alter 
this whenever they have the good 
fortune to discover where the run 
is to be made, but this is seldom 
so evident as to make much of 
an alteration in formation safe. 
Their forwards line up, and their quarter as well 
as halves go up to the rush line wherever they 
find the danger point. Their halves stand fairly 



DIAGRAM 9. 



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DIAGRAM 10. 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 



109 



oooooooo 



DIAGRAM 11. 



close up behind, and their back only a kicking dis- 
tance further toward the goal. The formation, after 
the two attempts to run have failed, is, however, quite 
different in respect to one half- 
back and the back. They at once 
run rapidly back until they are 
both at a considerable distance 
from the forwards. The back 
stands as far as he thinks it pos- 
sible for the opposing half to 
kick, under the most favorable 

circumstances, while the half stands perhaps forty or 
fifty feet in advance, ready to take the ball from a 
shorter kick. Some teams keep both halves in the line 
sending quarter back on this play. Diagram 11 illus- 
trates this. 

In a " fair," or putting the ball in from the touch (see 
diagram 12), the same general formation prevails as in 
the ordinary scrimmage, for it is really nothing more 
than a scrimmage on the side of the field instead of in 
the middle. It counts the same as an ordinary •" down " 

in respect to the necessity of ad- 
vancing five yards — that is, if a 
side has made one attempt, from 
a down, to advance, and has car- 
ried the ball out of bounds, and 
then makes another unsuccessful 
attempt to advance, but is obliged 
to have the ball down again, with- 
out accomplishing the five-yard gain, it must on the 
next attempt make the distance or surrender the ball. 
After a touch-down has been made, if a try-at-goal is 



ooo o o o 



DIAGRAM 12. 



ooo°oooo 



DIAGRAM 13. 



110 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

attempted by a place-kick, the formation is somewhat 
similar to a kick-off. (See diagram 13.) The man who 
is to place the ball lies flat on his stomach, with the 

ball in his hands, taking care that 
until the kicker is ready it does 
not touch the ground, as that 
permits the opponents to charge. 
The position of the opponents in 
this play is necessarily limited, 
for they are obliged to stand be- 
hind their goal until the ball is 
kicked. The same diagram (13) shows the position 
they assume. Their rushers undertake to run for- 
ward and stop the ball, while their halves and back 
are ready, in case it misses, to make a touchback. 

These diagrams cover the most important plays of 
the game, and give one an insight into the general 
manipulation of the players during the match. 



COACHING 

The time was, and that not so very long ago, when 
a captain could easily do all of the coaching that was 
expected, and if some of the older players came back 
for a few days, it was merely to look over the men and 
give a few words of advice as to the conduct of the im- 
portant match. If one could give the rushers a little 
lecture stimulating them to hard work in the game, 
and a bit of encouragement to the halves, the duty of 
the coach was performed. To-day the available men — 
those who have served upon the best teams as players 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 111 

— are as eagerly sought after for coaches as are experts 
in any branch of sport, and every team is put under the 
hands of a coach for at least part of the season. And 
it is this coaching by men who know the game thor- 
oughly that has done so much for the sport. It has 
spread the knowledge of the finer points of the play — 
not alone the strategies, but the best methods — as no 
other system could have done. East, West, and South 
the skilled players have gone, not to play, but to teach 
the coming foot-ball player how to use his strength 
and skill to the best advantage. 

The duties of the coach are manifold. He must 
know the most approved training, and must be able to 
direct the diet and amount of exercise to be taken. 
He must be able to handle a team without having any 
member get "too fine," or overtrained, and see that the 
men are in condition to stand the two three-quarter 
hours of a match. He must be able to preserve good 
discipline among the men, and, greatest perhaps of all, 
be able to make them work in perfect harmony. These 
are the duties of the captain as well, and the coach and 
the captain must always work together upon these 
points; but without any conflict of their powers, the 
captain should always remember that a coach ought 
to be positive. The suggestions I have endeavored to 
embody here are for captain, coach, and player; but 
they are intended for suggestions rather than absolute 
directions; and just as any one must meet special 
exigencies with special methods, so must the coach 
remember that if his governing principles be correct, 
he can often, to advantage, vary the application. 



112 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



THE FIELD AND MATERIALS 

As this book may fall into the hands of boys who 
have the wish and the spirit to become foot-ball 
players, but who do not enjoy the advantages of those 
in large preparatory schools or colleges, I shall take 
up the very beginning, and speak of the laying-out of 
the field, as well as the makeshifts sometimes rendered 
necessary. The ground for a field ought to be 400 feet 
long by 200 feet wide, although the field of play of 
regulation size is only 330 feet long and 160 feet wide. 
The additional distance at the ends is desirable to 
allow space for touch-downs and for kicks crossing the 
goal line. The space beyond the sides, or touch lines, 
is advisable in order that a player may not, when 
forced into touch, be pushed against a fence, and so 
run the risk of an injury. If it be impossible to get a 
field allowing space at the ends and sides, it is better 
to cut down a little from the regulation measurements 
in laying it out, so as to allow at least ten feet at the 
ends and eight feet at the sides. Having marked out 
the outer boundaries with plainly appearing lime lines, 
the marking of the transverse lines is next in order. 
These run across the field from side to side at every 
five yards, thus making 21 lines between the ends, or, 
counting the end lines, 23 in all. Of these the 25-yard 
lines — that is, the fifth one out from each goal — 
should be broader than the others, to distinguish the 
line of kick-out. Also the middle of the field — that is, 
the center of the eleventh five-yard line — should be 
marked with a broad white spot to indicate the place 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 113 

of kick-off. The easiest and most satisfactory way to 
do this marking is, after the outer boundary lines are 
made, to stretch the tape down each side line, and 
drive small stakes every five yards. Then let two boys 
hold a string from one stake to the opposite one while 
the marker is run over the string. The setting up of 
the goal-posts is the next undertaking, and is not an 
easy matter. To determine their position stretch the 
tape across the end of the field, and mark the middle 
of the end line — that is, 80 feet from each side. Then 
measure off each way a distance of 9 feet 3 inches, 
and the two points for the posts will be thus deter- 
mined. The posts themselves may be of any material 
available, and of any size timber; but the best post is 
of cedar or chestnut, — although pine will answer, — 
tapering slightly, and about four inches by three 
inches at the base. The posts should be sufficiently 
long, so that, when set securely into the ground, they 
shall stand over 20 feet high. A cross-bar, sufficiently 
over 18 feet 6 inches long to allow for its lap, should 
be fastened across these posts ten feet from the 
ground-level — that is, so that when set up, the up- 
right posts shall be exactly 18 feet 6 inches apart, 
and the cross-bar ten feet from the ground. I have 
given these measurements in this way because it will 
be found much more convenient to cut the posts to the 
proper height, and secure the cross-bars, before the 
posts are set up in the ground. The posts should have 
no braces attached to them, but be made firm by sink- 
ing them, and packing them well down into the ground. 
It is dangerous to put braces upon them, because the 
players may trip over them, or be forced against them, 



114 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

and so sustain serious injury. The field having been 
marked out, and the goal-posts erected, one at each 
end as above described, the ball must be next con- 
sidered. This unfortunately cannot be of home manu- 
facture to advantage. On account of the skill to be 
acquired in properly handling and kicking it, it is 
best that players should never use anything but the 
regulation ball. It is possible, however, to secure 
second-hand balls from almost any of the crack teams, 
and that too at a considerable reduction from the cost 
price. The regulation ball is of the size No. 5, and the 
English ball was formerly standard; but within the last 
years the Intercollegiate Association has accepted an 
American ball made by Spalding. 

This used to bear the stamp, " Adopted by the Inter- 
collegiate Foot-ball Association." I have elsewhere 
commented at length upon the clothing, but I want to 
add a word about the use of protecting material. There 
is no reason why a foot-ball player should subject him- 
self to the needless ache of old scrapes and bruises, as 
he did some years ago. If it added anything to the 
value of the sport, he might continue to suffer ; but 
it does not. Therefore I would say most emphatically 
that if a player receives a bruise or scrape on the shin, 
he had better put on a shin-guard at once, and con- 
tinue to wear it at least until the need for it is past. If 
his knees are scraped or bruised he should have a few 
pieces of sponge sewed into the knees of his trousers, 
and he will find that the hurt will not trouble him fur- 
ther, and will speedily get well. Any severe bruise in 
the muscles of the leg should be protected until the 
soreness disappears. An injury to the nose or mouth 
can be protected by the use of a nose-guard, and bruises 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 115 

on the head by padding the cap. Similarly a pad is 
w^rn over a tender ear, and held in place by a band of 
surgeon's plaster over the forehead. All this may give 
the casual reader a false impression of the accidents 
of the game; but these bruises and scratches are not 
serious, and the reason for thus protecting the injured 
member is not that the injury itself is of any moment, 
but that the player may still enjoy his sport without 
the irritation caused by some of these slight mishaps. 

A recent improvement in shoes has been the intro- 
duction of an ankle-supporter of leather, which, having 
been tried by the Yale team for several years, has 
proved almost a complete safeguard against sprained 
ankles. It consists simply of a thin anklet going about 
the ankle and under the instep, and lacing tightly. It 
may be attached to the shoe or not, but always goes 
inside. Another improvement has been in the form 
of leather or rubber spikes, supplanting the old- 
fashioned straight strip across the shoe. These offer 
a better hold for the runner, and do not require re- 
newal any oftener than the old strip. 



THE PLAYEKS 

As to the game itself, it often happens, not only at 
small towns, but even at schools, — and in my time I 
have known it to happen on the Varsity field, — that 
there are not enough players to make up eleven on a 
side. Many times the sport is not undertaken because 
it is not possible to be sure of twenty-two men. Now, 
this is a great mistake ; for even if short six men, al- 
most all the plays can be effected, and the sport be just 



116 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

as enjoyable and equally good practice. If short one 
man on a side, drop out a half or a back, playiug with 
but two men behind the quarter ; if short two men on 
a side, drop the half or back and one rusher ; if short 
three men on a side, drop the half or back and two 
rushers. The game can be played by still smaller 
numbers in like fashion; but less than eight on a side 
breaks up the method materially. To consider the 
other side of the question, which now is by far 
the more common in the large schools and colleges — 
namely, how to use more than twenty-two men. The 
side which opposes the 'varsity — the scrub side, as it 
is called — should always make up by numbers, in the 
days of early practice, what it lacks in physique and 
skill. The second eleven, as it is called, even though 
composed of more than eleven players, should be 
under the direction of a competent captain, who han- 
dles them as the captain or coach handles the 'varsity. 
The great value of the second eleven depends upon 
the ability of its captain, and a large proportion of the 
strength and skill of the 'varsity comes directly from 
the opposition which the second eleven can daily offer. 
In the early days of practice, as I say, the numbers 
of the second eleven can be almost unlimited — that 
is, the captain may play three, or even four, extra 
men in the line, and four, or even more, extra behind 
it. But after a time, when team play for the 'varsity 
begins, it is well not to give the second eleven more 
than two extra men in the line, although there may 
still be kept several extra men behind it, as halves and 
backs. With the last week or two of practice, only 
one extra man should be allowed in the line, and two 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 117 

extra halves or backs. Sometimes it is also advisa- 
ble, particularly if the second eleven is exceptionally 
strong, to play half an hour each day of the last week 
or so with but eleven men, so that the 'varsity may 
make a fair test of all its trick plays and combinations, 
and learn what the difficulties may be in carrying them 
out against the regular number of players. 

There is one other way of practising a 'varsity team ; 
for instance, when, after mid-season, they have become 
so strong in their playing as to make it impossible 
to give them really hard work without adding to the 
number of players upon the scrub side. This method 
is one of the most effective I know of when there is 
a ground admitting of it. I refer to practising upon 
a field not level and having the 'varsity team play up 
hill. The great advantage of this is that it preserves 
the conditions existing in a match of an equal number 
of men and yet gives the scrub side the advantage 
in all pushing and mass plays. I have seen a team 
trained upon such a ground, and found that the ad- 
vantage of it was marked. 



GENERALSHIP 

In another book I have gone into the detail of the 
individual positions, and here I shall pay more atten- 
tion to giving captains and players some brief sugges- 
tions in the generalship of the game, and developing 
combinations that will enable them to get the most 
value out of the material they have. In the first place, 
there is no point upon which more depends than the 



118 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

absolute power of the captain. Upon this one of the 
best writers upon English Rugby Union foot-ball is 
thoroughly in accord with me. I refer to Mr. Harry 
Vassall. The captain should have sole power to select 
his team. He may take the advice of his coach, or 
of committees; but the putting of a man on or the 
dropping of him off should rest in his hands alone. In 
this way only can he properly fulfil the duties of his 
position and secure the thorough command over his 
men that such a position demands. He should be a 
masterful man, and so self-reliant in emergencies that 
his men will naturally stand by him and look to him 
for advice, help, and commands. His relations with 
his men should, however, be such that he is always 
ready to listen to suggestions, — never, or very seldom, 
on the field, but after the play is over. 

One of the great secrets of good team play lies in 
adapting each play most carefully to the men taking 
part in it. If a team be a heavy team, but with no fast 
runners, the general study must be toward wedge and 
mass playing — that is, the team must be taught in 
every possible way to make use of their weight : not to 
attempt to outpace their opponents, but to crush them 
back. If, on the other hand, the team be a light, fast 
one, the development of the play should be along the 
lines of quick and deceptive movements, combined 
with double passes, criss-crosses, and a fair variety of 
trick plays. In many cases a team may be in neither 
category, that is, neither especially heavy nor, on the 
other hand, below the average in weight or above it 
in point of general activity. Then the team play must 
be based upon the especial capabilities of some one or 



FOOT-BALL IX AMERICA 119 

more men, usually those behind the line. With a good 
punter every possible advantage should be taken of the 
kicking game. The ends should be given the greatest 
attention, so as to render them sufficiently fast and ex- 
pert in tackling to be sure of holding the ground 
gained by the punter. The center should be made ab- 
solutely certain of his long snap-back, so that he may 
be able to place the ball exactly where the kicker 
wishes it. The tackles should also be taught to back 
up the ends in going down the field, and thus every 
possible means be employed to make the exceptional 
punting sure of reaping its due reward. In case a 
team has a very fast, strong half-back, a man far above 
the average in running ability, not only should plays 
be developed which call for him to carry the ball to the 
extent of his endurance, but, if he be a good catcher of 
punts, he should be the man sent back to catch the 
kicks of the enemy, and thus secure additional op- 
portunity for the display of his running ability. 

In making all team and combination plays in foot- 
ball there are several distinct points to be borne in 
mind, and from the very beginning of his foot-ball days 
the player and captain who wishes to succeed must 
study his play in relation to these points. To take 
these up in order, the first is to make use of a play, if 
possible, for which the opponents are the least prepared. 
This may be accomplished in two distinct ways. It may 
be done by masking or disguising the play, or it may 
be done by making the move and getting the ball in mo- 
tion quickly before the opponents are ready for any play 
at all. The first method is by far the easiest, because it 
depends only upon a few easily learned tricks of for- 



120 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

mation. The latter is the more difficult, because it 
takes the greater part of a season's entire practice and 
coaching to make a team competent to play a fast 
game. But it is well worth while to combine the two, 
for they go admirably together, and a fast team is al- 
most always a clever one, and usually a very reliable 
one. To disguise a play, the simplest method is to 
study out an arrangement of men of such a nature 
that the resulting move — the final outlet for the run- 
ner — may be varied without alteration in the first 
formation. Thus a wedge may be formed which shall 
start forward with the runner in the center and yet 
let him out either directly in front or at one side or 
the other. The signal given when the wedge is form- 
ing indicates to the runner and his assistants which 
outlet will be used, and the opponents are utterly 
unable from the position of the men to tell which the 
outlet will be. This prevents them from massing their 
men, and so renders the success of the play far greater. 
Similarly an occasional pretended kick altering into 
a run may prove very successful, as well as being de- 
moralizing to the opponents. In such a case the ball 
is passed back as for a kick, and the man who receives 
it instead of kicking it dodges his man and runs for 
the end; or the ball may be passed to some one else 
who has escaped observation and who darts through 
the line from close quarters. 

This play serves still another purpose in that it 
alarms the opponents and prevents their coming down 
so rapidly and freely at the kicker in future plays, 
because they remember the pretended kick and en- 
deavor to guard against it. The criss-cross or double 
pass is another excellent example of a disguised play, 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 121 

the ball being passed by the quarter to one of the 
backs, who starts rapidly for one end of the line, but 
after going a few steps hands, or tosses, the ball to his 
companion who is going in the opposite direction and 
who carries the ball to the other end, which has prob- 
ably been more or less weakened by the efforts of the 
men on that side to cross over and protect the end 
they fancied was to be assailed. One of the most re- 
markable of these disguised plays was the opening 
wedge practised by the Harvard team in 1892. This 
play was made by dividing the team into two parts, 
one consisting of the heavier men, the other of the 
lighter, but faster, ones. These two parts were placed 
the former some ten and the latter some fifteen yards 
behind the ball, and out two thirds of the way toward 
touch on each side. A runner was placed behind the 
heavier mass, a pretending, or "fake," runner nearer 
the middle, and a man at the ball to put it in play. At 
a given signal the two bodies of men started converg- 
ing toward the ball, which was not put in play until all 
were close upon it. Then, while the ball was being 
played and handed to the runner, the two bodies united 
and, turning toward the side of the lighter and faster 
men, moved diagonally up the field. The play was 
susceptible of a complete change in direction by send- 
ing the combined masses to either the right or the left, 
as well as by using the fake runner, and was therefore 
a capital development of the masked play. 

Working along the lines as suggested by these ex- 
amples, the player and captain can bring out plenty 
of original plays, for the possibilities of the game in 
that direction are by no means exhausted. 

As to the use of his men in combination plays, the 



122 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

captain must consider that, while disguising plays is 
advisable, there are extremes. For instance, the meth- 
ods that require hard work of each member of the 
team while only half enter into the real play, should 
not be resorted to too frequently, because it exhausts 
the men without compensating gain; and when the 
opponents secure the ball, the defensive play is found 
materially weakened by the condition of the men. 

But besides the various advantages to be gained 
by taking the opponents at unexpected points, or by 
rapidity of play attacking them when unprepared, 
one should also consider the value of a persistent as- 
sault upon a known weak point, or upon a portion 
of the team already materially weakened by repeated 
assaults. As examples of the first, one may consider 
the case of a team whose halves and backs are poor 
catchers. In this case a judicious use of long high 
punts of a twisting variety, well followed up by the 
forwards, will often result in securing touch-downs, or 
repeated long gains, from their muffing. Here it is 
not material that the play be disguised ; in fact, some- 
times the very knowledge that the kick is coming, will 
render a poor catcher all the more unsteady and ner- 
vous. Again it may be well known that the center 
of the line of the opponents has proved in former 
matches essentially weak, and in that case undisguised 
forcing of that point may give repeated gains, besides 
discouraging the balance of the team, who are power- 
less to prevent the advance. Or one end may be weak, 
and grow even weaker when forced to continual effort. 

In the second case, that more especially of tiring out 
a part of the line, more care should be used. The 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 123 

plays should not be all alike, but all directed at this 
one point, and played in as rapid succession as pos- 
sible. The same man should not be made the runner 
by the assaulting team, but kept fresh by the variation 
of their action, and throwing the hardest work succes- 
sively upon different men, while the same two or three 
men of the opponents are forced to meet it. The more 
men that are given a chance in these plays the better, 
because their combined force results in materially 
adding to the strength of the play. 

There is one other vital point which should be al- 
ways borne in mind by the captain when using his 
plays in a game, and that is the possibility of an acci- 
dental loss of the ball. This caution applies more par- 
ticularly to trick plays and passing than to mass plays, 
because in the latter the loss of the ball seldom means 
a serious matter. In a trick play, however, the very 
formation of the men is likely to operate disastrously, 
by giving the opponent who secures the ball a chance 
for a long run. In passing, also, especially long pass- 
ing, the same caution must be observed, and the cardi- 
nal rule, therefore, in both cases is not to venture such 
plays when within one's own 25-yard line, on account 
of the risk of the opponents securing a touch-down if 
a fluke be made. 



KICKING, CATCHING, AND PASSING 



The especially skilful features of foot-ball outside of 
team play are the kicking, catching, and passing. It 
is in these that the novice finds himself immediately 



124 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

inferior to the expert, and it is upon these that individ- 
ual practice is essential. Of the three, passing belongs 
more particularly to the province of one player only — 
the quarter-back ; for it is he who must receive the ball 
from the snap-back and deliver it to some other player. 
His passes vary, being sometimes long, — nearly across 
the field, perhaps, — and at other times consisting 
merely of handing the ball to a man, or even holding it 
to be taken out of his hands by the man as he goes by. 
All this requires practice; for there is a right and a 
wrong way. In the short passing, the wrong way 
upsets the man who receives the ball ; and in the long 
passing, the quarter may not be able to throw the ball 
swiftly enough to have it reach the recipient safely. 
The best way to make a long pass is to place the ball 
in the hand so that the end rests upon the point where 
the fingers join the palm. The fingers are curled up 
so that the ball if held in the hand rests as though in a 
cup at its base, and lies against the fore-arm with its 
side. In throwing it, a side-arm swing is used, and the 
ball is whirled through the air turning upon its short 
axis, the fingers giving it an additional snap as it leaves 
them. The ball should be sent as nearly on a line as 
possible. In short passing, not so much force is needed, 
and when handed to another player it should be held by 
the quarter by the ends, one hand on each end and the 
arms a little extended, so that the runner may grasp it 
securely without striking the quarter's body. 

Catching is something to be learned only after days 
of constant practice, and it is one of the most im- 
portant points in the play of the two half-backs and 
the back. As a punt may traverse a distance of fifty 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 125 

yards, a niuff may mean a loss of that distance, plus 
whatever the lucky man securing the ball may after- 
ward gain in an almost clear field. A muff is the most 
serious mistake that a player behind the line can 
make. To be a good catcher, a man must have the 
natural qualities of coolness and pluck, and he must 
perform the act properly. The ball should not be 
caught as a base-ball is, — in the hands only, — but 
the arms should assist, while the body — and even the 
upper part of the leg — may add to the absolute secur- 
ity of the catch. There is one spot where the ball 
must not be caught, and that is on the chest. More 
backs are guilty of this error than any other one on 
the list. A man who catches the ball high, or takes it 
on his chest, is never a sure catcher, and almost always 
gets into difficulties before a game is over. The ball 
should be caught low, — "in the stomach," as the boys 
express it, — that is, below the chest, and where, by 
bending the body forward and stooping perhaps a trifle 
just as the ball settles into the hands and arms, it ren- 
ders it almost impossible for the ball to escape, even 
though the player be tumbled over. The best catchers 
make this kind of a pocket for the ball, using the 
hands and arms to catch it, and also the body to make 
it sure, sometimes even drawing up the leg a trifle; 
but this last is hardly necessary. 

Kicking is divided into three kinds — place-kicking, 
punting, and drop-kicking. No one of these varieties 
has been sufficiently developed by American players. 
It is only necessary to state that men have place-kicked 
goals from the middle of the field, to demonstrate the 
fact that we are not up to the highest mark. We have 



126 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

brought out but one side of place-kicking, — namely, 
the goal-kicking from touch-downs, — and even that 
imperfectly. Long place-kicking from fair catches is 
seldom seen, and mainly because there are no men 
who can perform the part. A fair catch, when there 
is no wind, or a favoring wind, should yield a goal 
from as far back as the forty-yard line with moderate 
frequency, and be a "fighting chance" from ten yards 
back of that. 

To place-kick, the ball should be pointed, for short 
kicks, nearly upright, and then lowered as the distance 
to be kicked increases, but the point never brought so 
low that the force is not in a line with the long axis of 
the ball. The placer of the ball should hold it with 
the lacing up, and the kicker should sight along the 
upper seam. The placer should hold the ball with both 
hands, just off the ground, resting his elbow; the lower 
hand should be well under, but not upon the lower tip, 
and the fingers of the upper hand steadying the ball 
just above the lacing. As he sets the ball down, he 
turns his under hand flat on the ground so that it does 
not interfere with the ball, and steadies the ball with 
one or two fingers of the upper hand as it is kicked 
out from under by the kicker. He does not let go of 
the ball. The kicker should "cock up" the toes of his 
foot well, so that the foot is firm and the toe of the 
shoe catches the ball just below the lower point. 

In punting, the ball is kicked with the instep and 
not with the toe. The ball should be dropped — not 
tossed; merely dropped — from the hand to the foot as 
the swing is being made, and should be struck upon 
the point by the top of the instep. The swing may be 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 127 

a straight one or somewhat of a side swing, but the 
foot strikes the ball squarely in either case. The ball 
should not be too near the ground ; something over a 
foot in the clear is the proper height, except for special 
kicks, and the full weight of leg and body put into it, 
as hereafter described, for the drop-kick. Accuracy 
should be an aim of the punter as much as distance. 
He should practise daily at some kind of a mark, and 
steadily increase his distance from that mark. A little 
felt padding over the top of the foot and instep, so 
that the shoe laces snugly, is conducive to good punt- 
ing as well as good kicking of all kinds. 

There are three distinct styles of drop-kicking, and all 
of them good: first, the drop-kick, using but one hand 
to hold and drop the ball, the point being toward the 
goal, and taking a good, slightly side, swing in the 
kick; second, holding the ball in a similar position, 
but by the use of both hands ; and third, holding the 
ball in both hands, but with the point tilted backward, 
or away from the goal. In all three cases the dropping 
of the ball and the kicking are similar. The ball is 
dropped directly to the ground, falling so that it 
strikes the turf not exactly upon the point, but leaning 
off the perpendicular some twenty degrees or so. Just 
as it strikes, or rather just as it rises off the ground, 
the foot swinging forward catches it squarely with 
the toe and drives it as it does in a place-kick. G-ood 
drop-kickers send the ball fifty yards and over, 
although few of them are dangerous in a game unless 
they get nearer than that. Drop-kicking as well as 
punting should be practised with men coming down at 
the kicker in order to accustom him to the conditions 



12- WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

which he will find always prevailing in a game. It is 
the duty of the captain to determine when in a game 
a drop should be tried, and his decision must depend 
upon the accuracy and reliability of his kicker, the 
score and time of the game, and, finally, the condition 
of his team as to their ability to reach the line without 
losing the ball if the drop be given up. 

The above suggestions can hardlv be called direc- 
tions, for to make them as extended as one would like 
would take up an almost indefinite number of pages. 
They are merely suggestions that even the novice can 
begin his work upon and be sure that if he will supple- 
ment them with ideas of his own and unremitting 
practice he will be able to make himself a player of 
value to any team. The sport is farthest of all college 
sports from the limit of its development, and the boys 
now in the lower forms of the preparatory schools will 
play better foot-ball in their college teams than that we 
are seeing now, if they will but put the same interest 
in it that their predecessors have. Play strictly under 
the rules, but never be afraid of a play because it is a 
new or unheard-of one, is the best advice I can give to 
the coming players. 



GENERAL STRATEGY OF THE GAME 

It would be to leave the subject of foot-ball but half 
completed, did one fail to touch upon the larger strate- 
gies of a campaign, and to show how the almost un- 
limited lesser plays, when properly grouped, prove 
irresistible in advancing the ball. The first thing to 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 



129 



be considered is the material at the captain's com- 
mand. . The foot-ball player can never be educated to 
a pitch of machine-like perfection, nor will any amount 
of training make him absolutely untiring. It is there- 
fore necessary to start with the premise that no one 




This picture shows the finally successful tackle of a runner who has 
evidently made a dashing run, throwing off the men until several 
have tackled him together, and, by throwing themselves upon him, at 
last brought him to a standstill. 



or two men can do all the work. The object must be 
to use each man to the full extent of his capacity with- 
out exhausting any. To do this scientifically involves 
placing the men in such positions on the field that 
each may perform the work for which he is best fitted, 
and yet not be forced to do any of the work toward 
which his qualifications and training do not point. 
From this necessity grew the special divisions of 



130 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

players as indicated in another paragraph. It might 
seem that this division of players would take all re- 
sponsibility from the captain's shoulders; but it does 
not do this by any means. It only insures some sort of 
regularity of work for each individual. For instance, a 
rusher will never be called upon to drop-kick a goal, 
nor will a half be forced to snap-back the ball. 

There still remains the possibility of giving any one 
of these men so much work of his own special kind 
to perform as will exhaust him, and thus make it im- 
practicable to call upon him when he is most needed. 
Here is an element quite dissimilar to any entering 
into our other popular sport, base-ball. If one might 
suppose that it were possible in that game to let the 
most rapid base runner do as much of the running for 
the rest of the nine as the captain chose, we should 
have a temptation similar to that which assails the 
foot-ball captain. It would not be improbable that 
this chosen runner would become exhausted under cer- 
tain circumstances; and should he happen to be the 
pitcher as well, the results would prove fatal to the 
success of his nine. It seems as if no amount of calm 
reasoning can convince the average foot-ball captain 
of this fundamental principle. Year after year has the 
" one man " game been attempted, and year after year 
it has brought to grief the team attempting it. Nor 
is it enough for a captain merely to transfer the play 



The picture on the opposite page shows a try-at-goal by a place-kick. 
The forwards are lined out across the field, each one careful to be behind 
the ball when it is kicked. The man lying on the ground is pointing the 
ball at the goal under the direction of the half-back. This man stands 
back several yards, as the kick is evidently to be a long one. 



FOOT-BALL LN AMEKICA 



131 




132 WALTER CAMPS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

from one player to another in order not to exhaust any. 
He must do this at the proper time, and not at hap- 
hazard. His best runner will be needed at some criti- 
cal moment, and at just that moment must he be used. 
Forwards must not be given too much running to do 
early in a game, or their tackling and getting through 
will suffer. It is a serious mistake to take the edge off 
their strength until one is certain of the style and force 
of the adversary's running. As a policy which, while 
not infallible, will be most uniformly successful, the 
following may be laid down : 

Save the rushers as much as possible until the 
enemy have had an opportunity to send two or three 
of their (presumably) best formations against them ; 
then, if the line holds these men without difficulty, the 
rushers can be used more freely for general play. 

The halves and back should not be given any tack- 
ling to do in the beginning of the game. Insist upon 
the rushers attending to their business so thoroughly 
as to avoid all possibility of a runner coming through. 

It may seem a strange thing to make such a state- 
ment as this, but coaches will bear me out when I 
say that there are many teams which go into games 
with a line of rushers who do not get warmed up until 
a runner or two have come clear through them and 
been tackled by the halves or back. This is all wrong, 
and can be prevented by a few words before the game. 

These ideas regarding the use of material will sug- 
gest the details to any thoughtful captain. 

The next point to be considered is the adversary. 
In the great games, a captain usually has some know- 
ledge of his rivals' strength and resources before he 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 133 

faces them on the field. Even though he may not 
have this knowledge, fifteen minutes of play ought to 
give him a fairly accurate idea of the weaknesses and 
strong points of his adversary. It then remains for him 
to take advantage of this knowledge. It is well nigh a 
rule, so common is it, that a team has a strong side and 
a weak one. Without intention, this state of affairs 
comes to exist toward the end of a season. At this 
weak side of the opponents, then, must the early efforts 
of a team be directed. When a punt becomes neces- 
sary, let the ball be driven over on that side. When 
an opposing runner comes, force him in that direction. 
Keep a steady press upon the weak side, and before 
the game is half over the result will be most marked. 

Next, if the opponents in the line prove to be high 
tacklers, a captain should make constant use of his low 
runners, " bucking the line " hard and often. If the 
opposing backs are new or green men, he should see 
that they have plenty of kicks to catch. 

Another important point is to make the most of any 
natural advantages, existing at the moment, in the 
force and direction of the wind, the slant and con- 
dition of the ground, and the position of the sun. 
These are elements of success which no team can afford 
to ignore. The writer has seen a team start out with 
a strong wind and the sun at their backs, and actually 
throw away half an hour of the first three quarters 
by a running game without score. Then, evidently 
realizing their mistake, they began to kick, and suc- 
ceeded in making two goals in the remaining fifteen 
minutes. Whenever a favorable wind is anything 
more than moderate, a captain is inexcusable who ex- 



134 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

hausts his men by holding too closely to his running 
game, no matter if his runners be excellent. A wind 
which blows diagonally across the field is by no means 
to be despised; for if a captain will work the ball to 
the windward side, on his runs and passes, his kicking 
will be greatly assisted. The sun, too, plays an im- 
portant part, particularly when it is low in the horizon 



The picture on p. 135 illustrates the typical feature of the American game 
in distinction from the English ; namely, the open scrimmage. The ball is 
placed on the ground, and the snap-back stands (usually with his hand in- 
stead of his foot) upon it, and when his quarter-back gives him the signal that 
all are ready he snaps it backward. The quarter receives it and passes it to 
another of his own side for a kick or run. The position of the players in this 
picture is excellent, showing, as it does, the points of play as one can see 
them only in an actual game. Beginning atthe left of the picture, we see the 
end-rusher of the side which has not the ball. With his eyes fixed upon 
the center with the keenest attention, he awaits the first movement of the 
ball to dash through at the man who is likely to receive it. His opponent 
stands watching him with equal intensity, ready to block him at the mo- 
ment he starts. Next stands the tackle, apparently perfectly oblivious 
of the man facing him, and there is a confidence expressed in his attitude 
which assures one that this man, at least, will get through like a flash 
when the ball goes. Then there are two men, both stooping forward so 
that one sees but a leg of each. Of these two one is the guard and the 
other the quarter-back, who, seeing a chance of getting through, has run 
up into this opening. The opposing guard is straightening himself up, in 
order to cover, if possible, both these opponents. If one may judge from 
appearances, however, he will be tumbled over most unceremoniously by 
the onslaught of the guard and quarter. The center-rush is braced for a 
charge, and with mouth open for breath awaits the first movement of his 
opponent. He, the snap-back, has just placed his foot upon the ball, and 
is ready to send it back as soon as the quarter, whose back and leg are 
just visible, shall give him the signal. The two men in the foreground 
are opposing guards, one of whom is ready to dash forward, and the other 
to block. The man who is about to block has his hands clasped, in order 
that he may be sure not to use them to hold his opponent, as that is an 
infringement of the rule. The other men in the rush-line we cannot see, 
but one can rest assured that they are as wide awake to their duties as the 
eager ones in view. Behind the group stands the referee with his arms 
folded and eyes intent upon the ball. 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 



135 




136 AY ALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

so that a low punt, driven hard at the half-back, forces 
him to face directly at the sun in making the catch. 

Regarding the general conduct of a final game, or 
the one upon which depends the championship : 

From the less important minor games, and from the 
daily practice, the captain has learned not only the 
caliber of his team, but also their strongest and weakest 
plays. Now comes a most difficult act for any captain, 
namely, the elimination of all plays that are not suffi- 
ciently well executed by his men to be classed on the 
average as successful plays. Many plays that are 
peculiarly successful against weaker teams are, from 
their very nature, useless against well-disciplined 
opponents. Such plays must be classed with the un- 
successful ones, and must not be used in the critical 
game. The object of eliminating all these plays is two- 
fold. Certain ones of them must be given up because 
they would risk the loss of the ball; and others because 
they would needlessly exhaust the men. As an illus- 
tration, let us take the play of short passes along the 
line when running. This has always been a tempting 
play. It appears scientific and skilful. It gains dis- 
tance rapidly, and against a weak team gives the team 
practising it an appearance of superiority not to be 
denied. The reason for this is that a weak or undis- 
ciplined team take it for granted that they must all 
make for the man who has the ball, and there is, there- 
fore, a rush of several men at the runner. He passes 
the ball and they all dash after it again. This work 
quickly tells upon them, and they become tired out and 
discouraged, so that the runners have everything their 
own way. With a thoroughly disciplined team all this 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 



137 



is changed. One or 
two men may tackle 
together, but the line 
as a whole remains 
steady, and when the 
runner passes the ball 
the man receiving it 
has a tackier upon 
him almost at once, 
so that he too is com- 
pelled to pass the ball w 
to still another, who 
may expect a similar 
fate. As all this pass- 
ing must be at least 
on a line, and gener- 
ally backward, noth- 
ing is gained, but, on 
the contrary, some 
ground is lost. In 
addition to this, there 
is always the chance 
— and by no means 
a small one — of los- 
ing the ball in this 
quick passing. 

Another illustra- 
tion is the case of 
long end throwing, 

or passing the ball to a runner stationed well out on 
the side of the field. This play is unquestionably 
strong against rushers who bunch toward the ball, and 




138 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

in the smaller games it has resulted in many a touch- 
down. Against veterans, however, the play fails, 
because both the end and tackle are on the alert and 
carefully guarding any player who is stationed at the 
end. By the time the ball reaches him one or the other 
of these men is so close to him that he fails to get a 
fair start and is usuallv downed in his tracks. Then, 
too, it will sometimes happen that an unusually watch- 
ful and agile tackle will jump through and actually 
catch the pass before it reaches the runner. Such a 
catastrophe has too severe consequences to make the 
risking of it otherwise than an extremely doubtful 
venture. A man who thus gets the ball is in a fair 
way to realize a touch-down from it, for the only 
player who has a good chance at him is the back, and 
the best tackier on a field must have an unequal 
chance against a runner who has the entire breadth of 
the field in which to dodge him. Yet again, the runner 
to whom the pass is made may muff the ball. This, 
although not nearly so serious as an intercepted pass, 
always results in loss of ground and sometimes loss of 
the ball as well. 

The consideration of such plays as the two men- 
tioned gives one a fair insight into the methods by 
which the captain must weigh each play before enter- 
ing a game of importance with rivals who in skill, 
strength, and strategy are presumably the equal of his 
team. 

" What makes a good foot-ball player? "is a question 
asked over and over again. Many are the answers 
given, but no answer is correct that does not contain 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 139 

the word "pluck." The same elements that go to 
make up excellence in any of the other field sports are 
requisite in foot-ball ; but while in certain of the others 
that peculiar type of courage called pluck is required 
only in a moderate degree, in foot-ball it is abso- 
lutely indispensable. Many a man has said : " Oh ! I 
am too small to play foot-ball ; I could n't get on the 
team." Such a man makes a mistake. Look at the 
records of our players, and see how full they are of 
the names of small men. Withington, Cushing, Hard- 
ing, Hodge, Beecher, and twenty others, have played 
weighing under a hundred and forty ! Nor has it been 
that their deeds have been remembered because per- 
formed by such small men. These men made points as 
well as reputations. There is a place on the foot-ball 
field for a man, no matter what he weighs ; and that 
brings to mind a remarkable pair of boys and what 
they did for a Yale team at one time. One was the 
son of a United States senator from Massachusetts, 
and the other a younger brother of a well-known 
Brooklyn lawyer. They were classmates at Yale, and 
had done more or less foot-ball work during the course. 
These two men weighed about a hundred and twenty- 
five pounds apiece, or together a little over the weight 
of the 'varsity snap-back. In that year the 'varsity 
team was suffering from a combination of two disorders 
— over-confidence and lack of strong practice. None 
knew this better than these two little chaps, for they 
understood the game thoroughly. One day, then, they 
appeared at the field in their foot-ball toggery, and 
without assistance from the 'varsity captain set at 
once to work upon organizing the " scrub side," as the 



140 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

outside or irregular players are called. One of them 
played center and the other quarter, and it was not 
many days before the scrub side began to have a game 
and a way of its own. The overfed, underworked 
university players began to find that they could n't 
have things all their own way. Such tricks were 
played upon them that they were forced to awake from 
their apathy. These two boys began to show them the 
way to make use of brains against weight and strength, 
and the scrub side, that a week or two before had been 
unable to hold the 'varsity even enough to make the 
contest interesting, actually had the audacity to score 
against them once or twice every afternoon. How those 
two ever got such work out of the rabble they had 
to handle, no one knows to this day ; but it was the 
making of the Varsity team, for it speedily developed 
under this experience into one of Yale's strongest 
teams, and I have often heard one of that team remark 
since that he 'd rather play against any team in the 
Association than against the " scrubs " led by " Pop n 
Jenks and " Timmy " Dawes. 

This brings us to another quality: the brains of a 
team. That team is the best which has the most 
brains. Foot-ball is, even now, an undeveloped sport. 
There is room for an almost infinite number of as yet 
unthought-of plays. Every season brings forward 
many new ones. If a player wishes to devote a little 
of his spare time to a fascinating amusement, let him 
take pencil and paper and plan out combinations in 
the evening, and try them the next day. He will soon 
find that he is bringing out not only new but success- 
ful plays. Some think that the captain of the 'varsity 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 141 

team is the only one who has an opportunity to try 
this; but if two or three on the scrub side will make 
the attempt they will find that a 'varsity team is no 
more proof against a new scheme than the veriest 
scrub team in existence. In fact, oftentimes the 'var- 
sity players are so sublime in their own consciousness 
of superiority that they are the simplest men on the 
field to lead into traps and defeat by a little exercise 
of ingenuity. If a boy at school is n't on the first 
team, he can get together a few men of the second 
team and have the satisfaction of actually showing his 
betters how to play. 

"Play not for gain but sport," is thoroughly sound; 
but it means play honestly and hard, not listlessly and 
carelessly, and make it your sport to win. Then if you 
lose, put a good face on it; but go home and think 
out a way to win next time. Brains will beat brute 
strength every time if you give them fair play. 

Endurance is another element of success. Plenty 
of dash when it is necessary, but behind it there 
must be the steady, even, staying qualities. For these, 
good training is chiefly responsible; because, although 
natural endurance does exist in some men, it is not 
common, while the endurance of well-trained men is 
a thing that can be relied upon with confidence. 

A direct case in point was a victory of Princeton 
over Yale in 1878. Upon the Yale team were some 
three or four men — upper-class men — who thought that 
they had done enough training in former years, and 
they therefore made but a pretense of following out 
the rules of strict training. The example of these men 
affected several of the other players to such an extent 



142 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

that there was great laxity. Up to the time of the final 
contest, this team had performed well, and it was gen- 
erally believed that they would have no great difficulty 
in defeating Princeton. 

In the first half of the game they pressed the Orange 
men hard, and several times all but scored. In the 
dressing-room at intermission there was a general im- 
pression that, with the wind, which would be in Yale's 
favor the second half, they must surely win. The 
second half began, and it was not many minutes before 
the Yale men found themselves steadily losing ground. 
There was in the Princeton runners a resistless force 
that kept Yale retreating nearer and nearer to her own 
goal. At last, by a brilliant play, Princeton succeeded 
in making a touch-down from which a goal was kicked. 
During the remainder of the game, Princeton, although 
making no further score, held Yale fast down inside 
the twenty-five-yard line, and the Blue went back to 
New Haven with a very salutary lesson on the evil of 
neglecting the laws of training. 

These are laws which no foot-ball player can afford 
to ignore. 

LAMAR'S RUN 

One of the most magnificent dashes ever made on an 
American foot-ball field was the run made by Lamar, 
of Princeton, in the game with Yale which was played 
upon the Yale field, November 21, 1885. The game 
had been an unusual one in many respects. Princeton 
had come to New Haven after a long wrangle about 
the place of playing, and had brought a team supposed 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 



143 



by experts throughout the country to be sure winners. 
The Yale team was a green one, and none of her par- 
tizans hoped for more than a respectable showing 
against the Princeton veterans. But Peters, the Yale 




captain, had done wonders with his recruits, as the 
game soon showed. His team opened with a rush, and 
actually forced the fight for the entire first half. They 
scored a goal from the field upon the astonished Prince- 
tonians, and, in spite of the valiant efforts put forth 



m WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

against theui, seemed certain of victory. The feeling 
of the Princeton team and her sympathizers can easily 
be imagined. The sun was low in the horizon, nearly 
forty minutes of the second half were gone, and no one 
dared to hope such failing fortunes could be retrieved 
in the few remaining minutes. The ball was in Yale's 
hands, half way down the field, and on the northern edge. 
For a moment Captain Peters hesitated, and consulted 
with another of his players as to whether he should con- 
tinue the running game and thus make scoring against 
him impossible and victory certain, or send the ball by 
a kick down in front of his enemy's goal and trust to a 
fumble to increase his score. Perhaps not a dozen 
men knew what was in his mind. A kick was surely 
the more generous play in the eyes of the crowd. He 
settled the ball under his foot, gave the signal, and 
shot it back. The quarter sent it to Watkinson, who 
drove it with a low, swinging punt across the twenty- 
five-yard line and toward the farther goal post. It was 
a perfect kick for Yale's purposes, difiicult to catch and 
about to land close to the enemy's posts. A Princeton 
man attempted to catch it, but it shot off his breast 
toward the southern touch-line. Lamar, who had been 
slightly behind this man, was just starting up to his 
assistance from that particular spot. As the ball slid 
off with its force hardly diminished, he made a most 
difficult short-bound catch of it on the run, and sped 
away along the southern boundary. The Yale forwards 
had all gone past the ball, in their expectation of 
getting it, as they saw the missed catch. Lamar, there- 
fore, went straight along toward the half-back and 
back. Watkinson, the kicker, had hardly stirred from 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 



145 



his tracks, as the entire play had occupied but a few 
seconds, and he was therefore too near the northern 
side of the field to have even a chance to cut off the 
runner. Lamar, with the true instinct of the born 



■S^s-sy- 




runner, saw in a moment his opportunity, and ran 
straight along the southern edge as if he intended to 
get by there. Bull and his comrade (who then were 
inexperienced tacklers) were the two men in his path- 
way, and they both bunched over by the line as the 



10 



146 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

Princeton runner came flying down upon them. Just 
as he was almost upon them, Lamar made a swerve to 
the right, and was by them like lightning before either 
could recover. By this time two or three of the Yale 
forwards, Peters among them, had turned, and were 
desperately speeding up the field after Lamar, who was 
but a few yards in advance, having given up several 
yards of his advantage to the well-executed manceuver 
by which he had cleared his field of the half-back and 
back. Then began the race for victory. Lamar had 
nearly forty yards to go, and, while he was running 
well, had had a sharp " breather " already, not only in 
his run thus far, but in his superb dodging of the 
backs. Peters, a strong, untiring, thoroughly trained 
runner, was but a few yards behind him, and in addi- 
tion to this he was the captain of a team which but a 
moment before had been sure of victory. How he ran ! 
But Lamar — did he not too know full well what the 
beat of those footsteps behind him meant ? The white 
five-yard lines fairly flew under his feet; past the 
broad twenty-five-yard line he goes, still with three or 
four yards to spare. Now he throws his head back 
with that familiar motion of the sprinter who is almost 
to the tape, and who will run his heart out in the last 
few strides, and, almost before one can breathe, he is 
over the white goal-line and panting on the ground, 
with the ball under him, a touch-down made, from 
which a goal was kicked, and the day saved for 
Princeton. Poor Lamar ! He was drowned a few 
years after graduation, but no name will be better re- 
membered among the foot-ball players of that day 
than will his. 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 147 



BULL'S KICK 



The season of 1888 had opened with a veritable 
foot-ball boom. The previous season had ended with a 
close contest between Harvard and Yale, while Prince- 
ton, although occupying third place, had had by no 
means a weak team. Reports of the preliminary work 
of the three great teams, while conflicting, pointed in a 
general way to an increased strength at each univer- 
sity. The Boston papers were lauding the work of the 
Harvard team, and the New York papers returning the 
compliment with tales of large scores by the- Princeton 
men. Advices from New Haven showed that Yale had 
a far greater wealth of material from which to draw 
players than either of the others, so that although the 
actual strength of the team could not be learned, it 
was certain that the lugubrious reports from the City 
of Elms had little foundation. In this state of affairs, 
the first game, which was scheduled to be between 
the Crimson and the Orange and Black, was eagerly 
awaited. The game was played at Princeton, and 
an enormous crowd assembled to witness the match. 
Both sides were confident of victory, and Princeton was 
also determined to avenge the defeat of the former 
season. The day was perfect, and the game a thor- 
oughly scientific one. Although Harvard battled man- 
fully up to the very last moment, she could not 
overcome the lead which Princeton had obtained early 
in the game, and was at last forced to return to Cam- 
bridge defeated. The hopes of Princeton soared up 
that afternoon to the highest pitch, and those who 



14S 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



were well posted on the relative merits of foot-ball 
players agreed with them that their prospects were 
indeed of the brightest. Had it not been for news 
which came over the wires that evening from New 




H^HH 



BULL, OF YALE. 



Haven, it would have been concluded that Princeton 
would find an easy prey in Yale. But that news was 
something startling. It seems that the Yale-Wesleyan 
championship game had been played that same day. 
Harvard and Princeton had each already met Wes- 
leyan, but neither had scored over fifty points against 
that team. The astonishment of all foot-ball men was 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 149 

great, then, when the news came that Yale had made 
the almost unprecedented score of 105 against the Mid- 
dletown men. This, then, was the state of affairs pre- 
vious to the Yale-Princeton match. Harvard was now 
out of the question, owing to her defeat by Princeton, 
and all interest centered in this final contest. The 
day, while not very promising in its morning aspect, 
turned out propitious toward noon, and fully fifteen 
thousand people crowded the Polo Grounds before the 
players stepped out on the field. A perfect roar of 
applause greeted the entrance of the rival teams, and 
as they lined out facing one another, not even the most 
indifferent could help feeling the thrill of suppressed 
excitement that trembled through the vast throng. 
The game began, and for twenty-five minutes first one 
side gained a slight advantage, then the other, but nei- 
ther had been able to score. The Yale men had a 
slight advantage in position, having forced the ball 
into Princeton's territory. So manfully were they held 
from advancing closer to the coveted goal, that people 
were beginning to think that the game might result 
in a draw, neither side scoring. At this point Yale had 
possession of the ball. That slight change in posi- 
tion, — that massing of the forwards toward the center 
and the closing up of the back, — that surely means 
something! Yes, Princeton sees it too, and eagerly 
her forwards press up in the line with their eyes all 
centered on the back, for it is evident he is to try a 
drop-kick for goal. This bright-faced, boyish-looking 
fellow, with a rather jaunty air, is Bull, Yale's famous 
drop-kicker. He seems calm and quiet enough as he 
gives a look of direction to the quarter, and with a 



150 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

smile steps up to the spot where he wishes the ball 
thrown. There is a moment of expectancy, and then 
the whole forward line seems torn asunder, and through 
the gap comes a mass of Princeton rushers with a furi- 
ous dash; but just ahead of them flies the ball, from the 
quarter, straight and sure into Bull's outstretched 
hands. It hardly seems to touch them, so quickly 
does he turn the ball and dro^ it before him, as with 
a swing of his body he brings himself into kicking 
attitude, and catching the ball with his toe, as it rises 
from the ground, shoots it like a bolt just over the 
heads of the Princeton forwards, and — down he goes 
in the rush! The ball, however, sails smoothly on, 
high in the air, just missing by a few feet the wished- 
for goal. 

A sigh of relief escapes from the troubled breasts 
of Princeton sympathizers as they realize that for a 
time, at least, the danger is past. The Orange and 
Black bring the ball out for a kick-out, and work des- 
perately to force it up the field, having had too vivid 
a realization of danger to desire a repetition. Again, 
however, they are driven steadily back until the Yale 
captain thinks he is near enough to give Bull a second 
opportunity, and at a signal the formation for a kick 
is again made. Bull, a little less smiling, a trifle less 
jaunty in his air, again takes his position. Again 
Princeton opens up the line and drives her for- 
wards down upon him, but again that deadly drop 
sails over their heads ; this time a foot nearer the black 
cross-bar. Another kick-out by Princeton follows, and 
another desperate attempt to force the Blue back to 
the center of the field; but with a maddening persis- 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 151 

tency, and with a steady plunging not to be checked, 
the gray and blue line fights its way, yard by yard, 
down upon the Princeton territory. Captain Corbin 
glances once more at the goal, sees that his line is 
near enough, and again gives the signal. Bull steps 
up for the third time, and his smile has flown. He 
realizes that twice have his ten men carried the ball 
for him up to the very door of victory, only to see him 
close that door in their faces. His lips are firmly set 
as his resolve shows itself in every line of his well-knit 
frame. He settles himself firmly on his feet and gives 
the signal for the ball to come. For the third time the 
little quarter hurls it from under the very feet of the 
plunging mass, and this time Bull sends it true as 
a bullet straight over the cross-bar between the posts. 
With a yell of delight the Yale men rush madly over 
the ropes and seize the successful kicker. In the 
second half Bull has but one opportunity; but he takes 
advantage of that one to score another goal, and when 
the game is over is borne off in triumph by the rejoic- 
ing Yalensians, the hero of the day. 

If there was anything that might make a momentary 
ripple upon the steady, resistless stream of New York 
life, it should certainly be one of those foot-ball games. 
While there are plenty of base-ball enthusiasts, they 
possess their souls and their enthusiasm in patience 
before they reach, and after they leave, the grounds. 
But the collegian has no sense of repression, and his 
enthusiasm annually stirred up the sober, sedate dignity 
of Fifth Avenue from the Brunswick to the Park. For 
some years the wiseacres said: "No one will come 
to a game on Thanksgiving Day. New-Yorkers will 



152 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

never give up their annual dinner for anything under 
the sun." At the last game played on that day 
forty thousand people postponed their annual dinner 
to see the Yale-Princeton match. Perhaps nothing will 
better illustrate the pitch to which the interest had 
attained than to take the ride to the grounds, first with 
the spectators, then with the team. Coaches have been 
bringing as high as a hundred and twenty-five dollars 
apiece for the day, and even at that price are engaged 
weeks before the contest. Stages are resorted to. The 
old 'bus appears in rejuvenated habiliments, bedecked 
with great streamers of partizan colors, and freighted 
with the eager sympathizers of the Orange or the Blue. 
Long before noon, tally-hos draw up before the up-town 
hotels, and are soon bearing jolly parties out to the 
grounds, in order to make sure of a place close to the 
ropes. The corridors of the Fifth Avenue, Hoffman, 
and Windsor have for twelve hours been crowded by 
college boys eagerly discussing the prospects of the 
rival teams. Any word from the fortunate ones who 
are permitted to visit the teams is seized and passed 
from mouth to mouth as eagerly as if upon the out- 
come of the match hung the fate of nations. The 
condition of Jones's ankle is fraught with the utmost 
interest, and all the boys heave sighs of relief at hear- 
ing that he will be able to play. 

Having talked over the state of affairs all the even- 
ing, and until noon of the momentous day, each boy is 
thoroughly primed to tell his sister (and particularly 
his chum's sister) all about every individual member of 
his own team, as well as to throw in the latest gossip 
concerning the opponents. He is frequently inter- 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 



153 




154 WALTER CAM!' s BOOK Of COLLEGE SPOBTS 

rapted in this conversation, held on the top of the 

i-h, by the necessity of stopping to cheer some 
house where his colors are displayed in the windows, 
or to salute some passing tally-ho from which the 
similarly colored ribbons dangle and banners wave. 

Arrived on the grounds, the coaches are drawn up in 
line, and while anxiously awaiting the advent of the 
two teams, the appearance of each Princeton or Yale 
flag becomes an excuse for another three times three. 
And how smartly the boys execute their cheers ! The 
Yale cry is sharper and more aggressive, but the 
Princeton boys get more force and volume into theirs. 
The fair faces of the girls are as flushed with excite- 
ment as are those of the men, and their hearts no 
less in the cheering. 

Having followed the spectators out. and seen them 
safely and advantageously placed, let us ride back and 
return with one of the teams. \Ye find the men (who 
have been confined all the morning between four walls 
in order to prevent their talking over the chances, and 
thus becoming anxious and excited) just finishing their 
luncheon. They eat but little, as, in spite of their 
assumed coolness, there is no player who is not more 
or less nervous over the result. Hurriedly leaving the 
table, they go to their rooms and put on their uniforms. 
One after another they assemble in the captain's room, 
and. if one might judge from the appearance of their 
canvas jackets and begrimed trousers, they are not a 
set of men to fear a few tumbles. Finally, thev all 
have appeared, the last stragglers still engaged in 
lacing up their jackets. The captain then says a few 
words of caution or encouragement to them, as he 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 



155 




156 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

thinks best. He is evidently in dead earnest, and so 
are they, for you might hear a pin drop as he talks in 
a low voice of the necessity of each man's rendering a 
good account of himself. Thoughtfully they file out of 
the room, troop down the stairs, and out through the 
side entrance, where the coach is waiting for them. 
Then the drive to the grounds, — very different from 
the noisy, boisterous one we have just taken with the 
admirers of these same men. Hardly a word is spoken 
after the first few moments, and one fairly feels the 
atmosphere of determination settling down upon them 
as they bowl along through the Park. Every man has 
his own thoughts, and keeps them to himself ; for they 
have long ago discussed their rivals, and each man has 
mentally made a comparison between himself and the 
man he is to face, until there is little left to say. Now 
they leave the Park and rumble up to the big north gate 
of the Polo Grounds. As they crawl leisurely through 
the press of carriages, everything makes way for them, 
and the people in line for tickets stare at the coach for a 
glimpse of the players. They are soon in, and, jumping 
out at the dressing-rooms, run in and throw off outside 
coats, still keeping on the heavy sweaters. Now comes 
a slight uneasy delay, as it is not yet quite time to go 
out on the field lest their rivals keep them waiting 
there too long in the chill air. This is in truth the 
mauvais quart cVlieure of the foot-ball player, for the 
men's nerves are strung to a high pitch. Perhaps some 
one begins to discuss a play or the signals, and in a few 
minutes the players are in a fair way to become 
thoroughly mixed, when the captain utters a brief but 
expressive, " Shut up there, will you ? " and growls out 



FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 157 

something about all knowing the signals well enough if 
they '11 quit discussing them. A short silence follows, 
and then they receive the word to come out. As they 
approach the great black mass of people and carriages 
surrounding the ground, they feel the pleasant stimulus 
of the crisp fresh air, and their hearts begin to swell 
within them as they really scent the battle. Just as 
they break through the crowd into the open field, a 
tremendous cheer goes up from the throats of their 
friends, and the eager desire seizes them to dash in and 
perform some unusual deed of skill and strength. 

The Polo Grounds have fallen before the advance of 
city streets. That old inclosure, the scene of some 
most exciting college contests, will never again resound 
with the mad cheer of enthusiastic spectators; but 
there will be handed down to boys coming after, the 
memory and story of some grand old games, and there 
will always be a touch in common among the old 
players who saw service on those grounds. Of late 
years the game has been transferred to New Haven 
and Princeton alternately, much to the regret of the 
New York enthusiasts. 

THE COSTUME AND TRAINING 

The old-fashioned woolen jersey has given place, in 
great measure, to the less comfortable but more ser- 
viceable canvas jacket. This change was first made 
by a team of Trinity College, of Hartford. There had 
been a few rumors afloat to the effect that there was a 
new foot-ball garment, made of canvas, which rendered 
it almost impossible to catch or hold the wearer. No 
one at the other colleges had paid much attention to 



158 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



this report, and it was not until the Trinity team 
stepped out of their dressing-rooms at Hamilton Park, 
that the Yale men first saw the new canvas jackets. 
Strange enough they appeared in those early days, too, 

as the Trinity eleven marched 
out on the field in their white 
jackets laced up in front. It 
gave them quite a military air, 
for the jackets were cut in the 
bobtail fashion of the cadets'. 
The men in blue looked con- 
temptuously down on the in- 
novation upon the regulation 
jersey, and it was not until they 
had played for nearly half an 
hour, and had had many Trinity 
players slip through their fin- 
gers, that they were ready to ad- 
mit that there was some virtue 
in the jacket. The Trinity men, 
bound to give the new costume 
a fair trial, had brought some 
grease out with them, and each 
jacket had been thoroughly besmeared. They were 
therefore as difficult to grasp as eels, and it was not 
until the Yale men had counteracted this by grasp- 
ing great handfuls of sand that they were able to do 
anything like successful tackling. This, then, was the 
beginning of the canvas jacket, and although the 
greasing process was not continued (in fact, it was 
stopped by the insertion of a rule forbidding it), the 
jacket itself was a true improvement, and it was not 




THE OLD WOOLEN COSTUME. 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEEICA 159 

long before all the teams were wearing them. The 
superiority of the canvas jacket over the jersey lies in 
the fact that it gives much less hold for the fingers of 
the tackier, and also that it does not keep stretching 
until it offers an easy grasp, as does the jersey. 

The next article of the foot-baller's costume which 
demanded particular attention was the shoe. Probably, 
in spite of all the trials and the great exercise of in- 
ventive faculty bestowed upon the sole of a foot-ball 
man's shoe, there is to-day no better device for all 
fields and all weathers than the straight cross-leather 
strips which were used in the first year of the sport. 
They are shown in diagram I of the accompanying cut. 
One of the earliest plans was to lay out these strips in 
various different lines across the sole, in order to pre- 
sent an edge no matter in what direction the foot was 
turned. This gave rise to as many styles as there were 
men on a team. The cuts show a few of these (dia- 
grams II, III, IV, V). 






in 





Rubber soles were also tried, but they proved heavy, 
and when the ground was wet they did not catch as 
well as the leather strips. We have not yet seen a trial 
made of the felt soles which are now used in tennis, 
but these probably would not answer for kicking, as 
they would not be sufficiently stiff. 



160 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

The trousers also have quite a history. At first, 
several of the teams wore woven knickerbockers made 
of the same material as the jersey. These fitted them 
tight to the skin, anpl although they offered very little 
obstruction to the freedom of a man's gait, they neither 
were things of beauty nor did they prove much of a 
joy to the wearers; for when a hole was once started, it 
spread most amazingly. Another serious feature was, 
that when a game was played on frozen ground every 
tumble and slide left its mark not only on the trousers, 
but also on the player's skin beneath, as these trunks 
offered almost no protection. The next remove from 
these "tights," as they were expressively called, was to 
flannel knickerbockers. These prevailed for a season, 
but they were not stout enough for the rough work of 
the game, and many a youth has needlessly enlisted 
the sympathy of the tender hearts in the audience, 
when his comrades gathered about him and bore him 
from the field, only, however, to reappear again — such 
a plucky young man! — in a few moments. Some of 
the more knowing ones noticed that the trousers worn 
by the young man on Ms second appearance were not 
the same as those in which he began the game. Cor- 
duroy was tried with no better results than flannel. 
The most approved cloth now in use among the players 
is a sort of heavy fustian, and even these are thickly 
padded at the knees and along the sides of the thighs. 

The caps ran through a series of changes from 
a little skull-cap to the long-tasseled affair called a 
toboggan toque. The only really serviceable innova- 
tion was a cap with a broad visor, to be worn by the 
backs and half-backs when facing the sun. The stock- 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 161 

ings are thicker than they used to be, but otherwise 
there has been no change. The foot-ball player of 
to-day puts on a suit of flannels underneath his uni- 
form, and if his canvas jacket is a little loose or the 
day cold, he wears a jersey next the jacket on the 
inside. 

His shoes are of stout leather with straight strips 
across the soles; and, if they have become a little 
stretched from constant use, an extra pair of socks 
underneath the woolen ones gives his feet a more com- 
fortable feeling. 

He is better dressed to avoid bruises than the old- 
time player, but the canvas jacket is hard to play in, 
and such men as the quarter-back, who have little 
opportunity to make runs, but much stooping to do, 
still cling to the jersey. The back also can dispense 
with the canvas jacket if he finds it very irksome, but 
as a rule every one but the quarter is better dressed 
for service if in canvas rather than a jersey. 

To come to the more particular points of the diet 
and exercise suitable for a foot-ball player. Long ex- 
perience has shown that men who are training for this 
sport must not be brought down too fine. They should 
be undertrained rather than overtrained. The reason 
for this is that an overtrained man becomes too deli- 
cate for the rough, hard work, and perceptibly loses his 
vigor after a few sharp struggles. The season of the 
year is favorable to good work, and it is not difficult 
to keep men in shape. They should be given a hearty 
breakfast of the regulation steaks, chops, stale bread; 
nor will a cup of coffee hurt a man who has always 

been in the habit of having it. Fruit also can be had 
11 



162 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



in the early part of the season, and it is an excellent 
thing to begin the breakfast. About ten or eleven 
o'clock the men should practise for a half-hour or so. 
The rushers should be made to pass the ball, fall on it 
when it is rolling along the ground, and catch short 




s^s* 



A TACKLE. 



high kicks. They should also be put through some of 
their plays by signal. The half-backs and back should 
practise punting and drop-kicking, not failing to do 
some place-kicking as well. The quarter-back should 
pass the ball for them, and also do some passing on his 
own account in order to increase the rapidity of his 
throwing as well as the distance to which he can pass 
the ball. The half-backs and back should be made to 
take all the fly-catching they have time for, and it is 
best to have some one running toward them while they 
are performing the catch, that they may become accus- 
tomed to it. A very Mght lunch should be served at 
about one o'clock. It should consist of cold meats, 



FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 163 

toast, warm potatoes, eggs if agreeable; in fact, no 
great restriction should be placed upon the appetite 
of the men at any of the meals, except where cer- 
tain things manifestly disagree with certain individ- 
uals. Nothing very hearty should be given them 
at noon, however. At half -past two — or, better, at 
three — they should start for the grounds, and then 
play against a scrub team for an hour and a half. 
When they have had their baths, and been well rubbed 
down, it is about five o'clock, and in an hour from that 
time they will eat more dinner than any other set of 
men in training. No alcoholic beverages are permis- 
sible except for particular cases — as for a man who is 
getting too " fine " a little ale is not out of the way and 
may give him a better appetite and better night's rest. 
Plenty of sleep is indispensable. One other feature 
should be mentioned, which is, that as the rule for 
foot-ball games is "play, rain or shine," a team must 
practise in bad weather. Notwithstanding the fact 
that one would naturally predict colds for the men 
from practice in the rain, experience teaches quite the 
opposite. A cold is almost unheard of, and when it 
does occur is always traceable directly to some foolish 
exposure after the playing is over; as, for instance, 
remaining in the wet clothes. This must on no account 
be allowed. If the men are put into their baths, and 
dressed immediately after in warm, dry clothes, they 
will never take cold. 

The above points are the vital ones in foot-ball train- 
ing, and give a general view of the course to be pur- 
sued. The smaller technicalities every captain must 
discover for himself. 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE SPECTATOR 

THE next generation of Americans will be as thor- 
oughly educated in the technicalities of base-ball 
as our English cousins are in the intricacies of cricket. 
Many a man to-day has felt a little defrauded by the 
increasing space his morning paper gives to the game, 
and has been inclined to look with disapproval upon 
the devotion of his boy at school to something apart 
from his studies. As the present generation of boys 
become men, however, there will be a softer spot in 
their hearts for a pastime whose ways they know and 
whose fascinations they remember. Putting aside for 
a moment its professional questions, base-ball is for 
every boy a good, wholesome sport. It brings him out 
of the close confinement of the school-room. It takes 
the stoop from his shoulders, and puts hard, honest 
muscle all over his frame. It rests his eyes, strengthens 
his lungs, and teaches him self-reliance and cour- 
age. Every mother ought to rejoice when her boy 
says he is on his school or college nine. And she 
would if she knew what he means when he says he 
is "in training." It means that he is following, with 
the closest observation, the laws of health. He is free 
from the taint of dissipation, and is making of himself 
a clean, strong young man. This training has been 
made a study, and the results have been handed down 

164 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE SPECTATOK 165 

through college and school, until every boy now enjoys 
the advantages. The enforcement, too, of these laws 
of training is more strict than that of any rules of 
teacher or faculty ; for, instead of surveillance, the boy 
is bound by his honor to his captain and his fellows. 

The history of the game is an interesting record 
of progress and development. Away back in the fif- 
ties we find it assuming its first stage as a well-defined 
sport. Previous to that time there were certain games 
played with bat and ball, but there were not enough 
points of similarity to warrant one in attempting to 
prove or disprove conclusively where the game of 
base-ball originated. In this early stage the game was 
chiefly confined to local nines, with here and there 
a sporadic outbreak of it at the colleges. There were 
occasional attempts at organization; but while these 
had existed here and there, an association or league 
of men making base-ball a profession was unthought 
of. Men who played ball for a financial consideration 
had other means of livelihood, and there were no play- 
ers whose efforts could accumulate a fund sufficient to 
last through the winter. As the game grew in popu- 
lar favor it became possible for men to turn it into 
a money-making venture, and this they did not hesi- 
tate to do. The sport had not at that time acquired 
sufficient strength to withstand the evils dragged into 
it by those whose sympathies were only with the gam- 
bling and pool-selling classes, so that in the sixties the 
evil of betting had crept into the sport so much as 
seriously to compromise its prospects and give it a bad 
odor among respectable communities. Sold games 
were a common thing, and many of the journals of 



1G6 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

that day predicted its speedy downfall. As a notable 
effort to reinstate the game in popular favor, and 
scotch the betting and selling evil, stands out most 
prominently the convention held in Philadelphia in 
December, 1867. An idea of the thoroughness of the 
effort can be gained from the fact that five hundred 
clubs were represented. 

The leading ball clubs during the next year or two 
were, in the East, the Atlantics of Brooklyn, Athletics 
of Philadelphia, Unions of Morrisania, and the Mu- 
tuals ; while the Bed Stockings of Cincinnati bore the 
palm in the West. This latter club made a most 
successful trip east in 1869, winning all of the twenty- 
one games played. Such was the enthusiasm pro- 
duced by these victories that on the return of the club 
it was met by a perfect ovation, tendered a banquet, 
and presented with a champion bat. This rather re- 
markable testimonial was twenty- seven feet long and 
nine inches in diameter. The same nine made another 
Eastern trip the following season, and met with almost 
equal success, suffering but one defeat, and that by 
the Atlantics on the Capitoline grounds. A crowd of 
ten thousand people assembled to witness this match, 
and so lost their heads in the excitement as to give the 
Western men a very unfair reception. The game was 
not decided at the end of the ninth inning, each club 
having five runs. The tenth inning was played in a 
pause of breathless excitement, neither club scoring; 
but in the eleventh inning, in a perfect bedlam of 
noise, the Atlantics succeeded in making three runs, 
while the Red Stockings scored but two. 

In 1874 American base-ball men made their first for- 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE SPECTATOR, 



167 



eign trip. The ex-champion Athletics and the cham- 
pion Bostons crossed the water and played several 
exhibition games. Their first game was played at 
Lord's, on Bank Holiday, Augnst 3. 

Fifteen years later, in 1889, two nines of representa- 
tive American ball-players, after carrying the sport 



s&£> 




THE CATCHER. 



through almost every civilized quarter of the globe, 
completed their tour by a game at Lord's. 

The comments of the English papers upon the sport 
at that time are very amusing. Speaking of the prac- 
tice before the game, they say: "The larking indulged 
in by the Americans for ten minutes before the match 
showed great precision, but after the game commenced 
returns were not so accurate." Comparing the game 
with cricket, they admit that the fielding is far better, 
but ascribe it to the difference in the ball used. By 
this time the American game had also made a fair 



168 WALTER CAMP 7 S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

stand in Canada, the Maple Leaf Club of Guelph, On- 
tario, being the most prominent in that region. 

In 1876 the National League was formed of eight 
clubs, containing the very pick and flower of the ball- 
playing fraternity. This selection was so small when 
compared with the large number of people anxious to 
be spectators of ball games that in 1881 the American 
Association was organized. Until time had demon- 
strated that there was plenty of room for both, there 
was bitter rivalry between the two. This was not 
long-lived, and what is known as the National Agree- 
ment then united the two in respectful and harmonious 
tolerance. Their united power became quite sufficient 
to govern, with their black-lists, reservations, and con- 
tracts, the entire professional ball-playing community. 
Their rule provoked much hard feeling and occasion- 
ally open rebellion, but not a revolt sufficient to over- 
throw their authority. 

During the twenty years from 1870 to 1890 the Bos- 
ton Ball Club won more than a third of the annual 
championships, bearing off the honors in seven years. 
The Chicago Club stands next, with five championships 
to its credit. The only other club to win more than 
once was the Providence nine, which was successful 
twice. A study of the records of the League and the 
Association shows that the contest was closer in the 
latter — that there was not so great a difference 
between the records of the first and last clubs. 

Another feature of the records is of interest, as 
showing the tendency of men to drift in and out of 
this rather nomadic profession. There were but seven 
men in the books of 1888 who had played through 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE SPECTATOK 



169 




AN " OUT-CERVE "— THE 
BEGINNING. 



the twelve years upon one or the other of the League 
nines. These seven men stood, however, with but one 
exception, high in the profession, and exhibited the 
same superiority that tenacity 
of purpose and experience pro- 
duce in any calling. 

The history of college base- 
ball follows the line of the pro- 
fessional game very closely. 
At times the college men have 
been rather more conservative, 
and have clung to certain rules 
for a season or two after their 
abandonment by the profes- 
sionals. In the end, however, 

in nearly every instance, they have realized the ad- 
vantage of the change, and followed the lead set them. 
In the early days of the sport the collegians coped 

successfully with the majority 
of the semi-professionals; but 
even then, when they were, 
pitted against the strongest, 
the college nines met with de- 
feat. The first game of note 
between a college nine and pro- 
fessionals was in the spring 
of 1868, between Yale and the 
Unions of Morrisania. The 
Unions were at that time the 
champions of the country. The 
game was intensely exciting. At the end of the fifth 
inning Yale led 8 to 4, but by the end of the ninth 




AN " OUT-CUKVE "— THE END. 



170 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

inning the Unions had tied the score, and eventually 
won the game, 16 to 14. Frequently the score-sheets 
of college nines show excellent fielding; but when 
these same men are brought to face the sharp, hard 
hitting of the professional batsmen, their errors begin 
to multiply, and, in an inverse ratio, their hits di- 
minish. The increase of errors is due to the difficulty 
they find in handling the fast drives of the trained 
batsmen, and also to the nervousness produced by the 
knowledge that they must play a quicker game. A 
professional gets away to first base far more rapidly 
than a college player, and the first sensation of a 
college in-field on meeting a professional nine is one 
of hurry. A short-stop or third baseman finds that 
he has no time to "juggle" the ball and then throw 
the man out, as he often can do with college runners. 
The ordinary college pitcher is no match for League 
batters, and they find an easy prey in him. On the 
other hand, the skill of the professional pitcher readily 
balks the attempts of the college batsmen to find the 
ball, and only the best men handle the stick with any 
effect. The rest of the nine become nervous over 
their failure to judge the delivery, and before the end 
of the game apparently dread to come to the plate 
for their turn. 

Perhaps the host of people who understand the 
game of base-ball thoroughly will forgive a few words 
of explanation for the sake of those who have never 
witnessed a match. It may not be uninteresting to try 
to realize how the game appears for the first time to 
an outsider. Any comparatively level piece of ground 
over a hundred yards square will serve for a base-ball 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE SPECTATOR 



171 




PITCHING A "DROP" BALL. 



field. Upon this field is laid out a diamond whose sides 
measure thirty yards, and whose nearest corner is dis- 
tant about ninety feet from one end of the field. This 
corner is marked by a white 
marble plate a foot square, sunk 
level with the ground, and called 
the home base. At the other 
three corners are canvas bags 
fifteen inches square, and called, 
beginning at the right as one 
looks into the field from the 
home plate, the first, second, and 
third bases respectively. The 
lines from home to first and 
home to third, indefinitely pro- 
longed, are called the foul lines. The game is played 
by two sides of nine men each, one of these sides 
taking its turn at the bat while the other side is in 
the field endeavoring, as provided by certain rules, 
to retire or put out the side at bat. Each side has 
nine turns at the bat. The arrangement of the 

men in the field, with the exception 
of pitcher and catcher, is in the form 
of two arcs facing the home plate, 
whose radii are, roughly speaking, 
thirty and sixty yards. Forming the 
arc with the lesser radius are four 
men called the in-fielders, and named 
the first, second, and third basemen, 
and the short- stop. The latter player stands mid- 
way between the second and third basemen. The 
other arc is composed of the out-fielders, and they 




STOPPING A GROUNDER. 



172 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS 

are named right, center, and left fielders. Inside 
the diamond, and distant in a straight line in front 
of the home plate some fifty-five feet, is the pitcher's 
position, or box, as it is called. This is a plate upon 
which the pitcher is obliged to have his foot when 
performing the duty which devolves upon him of 
delivering the ball to the batsman. The catcher's 
position is not thus defined, but according as neces- 
sity requires he stands either close behind the bats- 
man, or, when no runner is on the bases, and the 
batsman has not reached his last strike, some seventy 
feet back of the plate. When standing thus he simply 
performs the duty of returning the ball to the pitcher, 
as it is unnecessary for him to catch it under these 
circumstances. The players of the side at the bat take 
their turn in regular rotation, and continue until three 
of them have been put out by the opponents. This 
retires the side to the field, and the others come in to 
the bat. The batsman has a certain space marked off, 
in which he must stand when striking at the ball. 
The batsman becomes a base-runner immediately when 
he has made a " fair hit " (that is, knocked the ball so 
that it will fall in front of the foul lines) ; or when he 
has had " three strikes " (that is, three fair opportuni- 
ties of hitting the ball) ; or, finally, when the pitcher 
has delivered "four balls," none of which have been 
struck at by the batsman or have passed over the plate 
at the proper height. In this latter case he is entitled 
to occupy first base without being put out; in the 
other cases he is the legitimate prey of the opponents, 
and his only havens of refuge are the bases, which he 
must take in regular order, first, second, third, and 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE SPECTATOK 173 

home. When he completes this circuit, and crosses the 
plate without being put out, he scores a run ; and the 
number of runs thus scored in nine innings decides 
the match. 

A batsman is put out if he hits the ball and the ball 
be caught by an opponent before touching the ground, 
or if he make three foul bunts. A base-runner may be 
put out in any one of the following ways: if, having 
made a fair hit, the ball be caught by an opponent be- 
fore touching the ground, or, having touched the ground, 
be held by a fielder any part of whose person is touch- 
ing the first base before the runner reaches that base ; 
if, after three strikes, the ball be caught before it touches 
the ground, or, having touched the ground, be held at 
first base as above described; and, finally, if he be 
touched by the ball in the hands of a fielder at any time 
during his circuit of the bases when he is not touching 
the base to which he is legally entitled. To provide for 
the satisfactory conduct of the game, an umpire is 
agreed upon by the contesting nines, and it is his duty 
to see that all the provisions of the rules are observed . 
He is also the judge of good and bad balls, put outs, 
and runs. Any other point Hable to become a point of 
dispute comes under his jurisdiction. Sometimes two 
umpires act at the same time, one at the plate and the 
other on the bases. 

Such, in general, are the laws by which the modern 
game of base-ball is governed. These laws or rules are 
the growth of many years, and it is to them and to 
their annual revision and improvement that the game 
owes in a large measure its success. There are many 
technical terms, and a knowledge of these is necessary 



174 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOETS 




RUNNING TO FIRST BASE. 



to a perfect understanding of the game. Every ball 
that the pitcher delivers to the batsman, and which he 
does not hit with his bat, is called by the umpire either 

"a strike "or "a ball." If 
the batsman attempts to 
hit it and misses it, it is a 
strike, whether it passed 
over the plate at the 
proper height or not. If 
the batsman makes no 
attempt to hit it, and it 
passes over the plate at 
a height not greater than 
his shoulder nor below 
his knee, the umpire calls 
it a strike. If it fails to 
meet these requirements and the batsman makes no 
attempt to hit it, the umpire calls it a ball. 

As above described, four of these called balls make 
the batsman a base-runner and entitle him to his base ; 
and at the third strike, whether called or attempted, 
he becomes a base-runner and must reach first or be 
put out. A base-runner cannot run out of the direct 
line in order to avoid a player with the ball, nor can he 
interfere with any of his opponents legitimately at- 
tempting to handle the ball. It often happens in a 
game that a base-runner is obliged to vacate his base 
by the occupancy of that base by a following runner. 
This is called being "forced," and when it happens 
that runner may be put out by being touched with 
the ball, or by its being held by a fielder on the base 
to which this succeeding runner forces him, before he 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE SPECTATOR 175 

can reach it. There is only one base which a runner 
may overrun without liability of being touched out, 
and that is first base. " A balk " is any motion made 
by the pitcher toward delivering the ball to the bats- 
man without so delivering it, and every base-runner is 
entitled to the next base on such offense. Within the 
province of the umpire comes the duty of deciding 
regarding the weather and darkness. In the case of 



SLIDING TO BASE. 



the former, the rule is laid down for him that the rain 
is sufficiently severe to stop the game when the spec- 
tators seek shelter. If the rain then continues for a 
half -hour, he "calls" the game; and if five complete 
innings or over have been played, it stands as a game, 
otherwise not. The same result holds in the case of 
darkness. 

In the scoring of the game there are also technical 
terms, and a slight knowledge of these enables one to 
glean from the tabulated forms in the newspapers a 
fairly good idea of what each man has accomplished. 
The columns are headed by the initials of these tech- 
nical terms. The first column is headed R., and indi- 
cates the number of runs he has made. The column 
headed B. H. or 1 B. indicates the character of his bat- 



17(3 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

ting, and the letters stand for the term "base hits," or 
1st base hits. A batsman makes a base hit when he 
strikes a fair ball in such a direction that it is im- 
possible for his opponents either to catch it on the 
fly or to field it to first base before he crosses that 
base. Following this column is sometimes one headed 
S. B., which means "stolen bases." These are bases 
gained by good running or by strategy, without the as- 
sistance of a hit. In addition to these columns, which 
indicate what each man of the side has accomplished 
while at the bat, are three columns devoted to the rec- 
ord of the fielding. These are headed P. O., A., and E. 
The first stands for "put outs," and indicates how many 
of the opponents he has individually retired. It will be 
noticed that the first baseman and the catcher usually 
succeed in taking the lion's share of this column. The 
next letter stands for "assists," and any player who 
handles a ball during a play which might or does 
eventually result in the putting out of an opponent 
receives for every such assistance a credit of one in 
this column. The last column indicates the number 
of missed opportunities, or " errors." A player is ac- 
credited with an error for every chance he has failed 
to accept in a manner to result directly or indirectly 
in the putting out of an opponent. It will be seen, 
then, that the sum of these three columns shows just 
how many opportunities each fielder has had ; and the 
relative ratio of the sum of the put outs and assists to 
the errors indicates his fielding record. 

Other special phrases and terms are almost self- 
explanatory. An "earned run" is one that is made 
without the assistance of fielding errors — that is, in 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE SPECTATOK 177 

spite of the most perfect playing of the opponents. 
From the nature of things, a ball so knocked that 
it cannot be caught or fielded to the plate before the 
man can make the entire circuit of the bases yields an 
earned, or, as it is in such instances more generally 
called, a u home run." A "passed ball" is a pitched 
ball which by an error of the catcher is allowed to go 
behind him so that a runner is advanced a base. A 
"wild pitch" is a ball delivered by the pitcher so wide 
of the mark that the catcher cannot recover it before 
the runner has advanced a base. A " sacrifice hit" 
is a ball so batted as to advance a base-runner while 
it gives an opportunity of putting out the man bat- 
ting it. 

There are certain strategic plays which go to make 
up the finer points of the game. One of the most com- 
mon of these is throwing first to one base, then quickly 
to another, in order to put out more than one man. 
For instance, when there is a runner on first base 
and a ball is batted near second, if the second base- 
man merely threw the ball to first he would put 
out the man who hit it, but the man on first would 
hold his base or go to second when the ball was 
thrown. Whereas, if the second baseman seizes the 
ball and touches his bag, the man on first is forced out 
at second, and by quick work the second baseman can 
throw the ball to first before the runner who struck 
the ball can reach that point. In this way he makes 
what is called a double play, putting out both men. 
Triple plays are also possible, although seldom made. 
Another point which shows the brains of the game is 
in attempting to put out the man who is nearest home 

12 



178 WALTEK CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS 




in his circuit of the bases. Thus, whenever there is 
an opportunity of putting out either a runner who is 
coming from third or one who is going to first, the pref- 
erence is given to the former, un- 
O less the chances of putting him out 

are unusually slender. Still another 
fine point is the race of man against 
the ball, as shown in the case of a 
man on third base when a long fly 
is batted into the out-field. Accord- 
ing to the rule, the runner must 
touch the base after the fly is caught 
before he can run, but the distance 
from the fielder making the catch 
to the home plate is so great that 
there is a very fair chance of his 
getting home before the ball. He 
therefore stands with his foot touching the bag, and 
leaning forward for a start. Just as the ball settles 
into the fielder's hands off he goes. The fielder, too, 
is prepared for this, and recovering himself almost 
instantly, he drives the ball in on its long journey 
toward the plate, often reaching it just as the run- 
ner crosses it, but too late for the catcher to touch him. 
Of all the positions on the field, the two that com- 
mand the most attention are those of pitcher and 
catcher, or battery, as they are called. Upon them 
are pinned the hopes of every other man. If the 
pitcher succeeds in deceiving the opposing batsmen 
and the catcher gives him good support, all will be 
well; but if the curves and strategies of the pitcher 
are readily solved, or if the catcher fails to hold him 



FIELDER CATCHING 
A FLY. 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE SPECTATOE 179 

well, the field will have some sorry work to do before 
the nine innings are finished. Successful batteries 
are in great demand, and receive the highest salaries 
among professional ball-players. In valuing a battery 
the first points of consideration are their effectiveness 
and endurance, and then their ability to get on well 
with the rest of the nine. 

A pitcher to-day is not a strong pitcher unless he 
has good command of the curves, a fair amount of 
speed, and ordinary accuracy. These are only the 
average recommendations. The crack men have 
these, combined with excellent judgment and unusual 
endurance. A pitcher who can pitch more than two 
games a week successfully through a season can boast 
of his record. Nor is a catcher much better off. His 
hands are liable to slight injuries which may keep him 
off a day or two, or, if he persists in playing, result so 
badly as to incapacitate him for weeks. The constant 
strain when under the bat is too great for him to 
endure more than two or three games a week. The 
rest of the men can, if necessary, play their four or 
five games a week without serious inconvenience, but 
the battery requires constant care and frequent relief. 

Probably no point in the game has been more 
developed in the last twenty years than the pitching. 
The old method was to deliver the ball by a perfectly 
straight swing, the arm passing close to the side of the 
body, and the ball being sent from a point below the 
pitcher's hip. This style of delivery would meet with 
such a reception from the trained batsmen of to-day 
that an inning would last longer than the ordinary 
game. The first step from this old-time true pitching 



180 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

was to the use of the wrist in the delivery, making 
what was known as an underhand throw. At just 
about the same time the discovery was made that a 
ball could be so pitched or thrown as to cause it to 
curve slightly from the straight line. Many were the 
skeptics regarding the possibility of such a thing. For 
a long time men versed in physical science and phe- 
nomena pooh-poohed at this, saying that it was impos- 
sible, and that it was simply an optical delusion. But 
the ball did curve, and the first pitchers to acquire the 
art proved problems to the best of batsmen. The " out- 
curve " was the one first discovered, as it is easiest to 
effect. This is a delivery by a right-handed pitcher 
which causes the ball to curve away from a right- 
handed batsman. Slowly after this came the "in- 
curve," or reverse of this. This curve is so slight 
as to be but little more effective than a straight ball. 
The "rise" and "drop," which had probably existed 
for some time previous, then took on definite names 
and became combined with the other curves. The 
most logical explanation of the curvature of a ball 
depends upon the supposition of the compression of 
the air just in front of the ball and a corresponding 
rarefaction immediately behind it, so that the ball 
by its friction is deflected from its true course. When 
the curves were mastered, the tendency of the pitchers 
was to bring the hand up above the hip in order to 
give more of a twist to the ball, and thereby assist the 
curve. The difficulty experienced by umpires in con- 
trolling this tendency led to the adoption of a rule 
allowing the pitcher to deliver the ball from any point 
below the shoulder. This rule prevailed for a time, 



BASE-BALL — FOB THE SPECTATOB 



181 





but no sooner were the pitchers allowed this leeway 
than they began to make the umpire's task equally 
difficult again by getting their delivery just a trifle 
higher than the law allowed. In 
order to put an end to the eternal 
field discussions upon this point, 
a rule was passed permitting the 
pitcher to throw the ball in any 
way he saw fit, and this rule has 
met with comparatively good suc- 
cess. The pitcher, who had for- 
merly been placed forty-five feet 
from the batsman, was relegated 
to a fifty-foot distance. Even then, 
by taking advantage of a step or 
two behind his line, he acquired 
so much speed that it became 
necessary to fix his position more 
definitely, and to-day he is even 
bound to the extent of the exact 
position of his foot when delivering the ball. In spite 
of all these restrictions, such is the growing skill of 
pitchers that the problem is constantly under dis- 
cussion how to legislate in favor of the batsman. 

The rest of the fielding has kept some measure of 
progress with the pitching, the catcher's position ex- 
hibiting the highest development. This development 
is fortunately accompanied by numerous safeguards 
against the shocks of the increased speed of the ball. 
The first catchers who came up under the bat were 
wont to wear a small piece of rubber in the mouth as a 
protection to the teeth from foul tips. It was not long 



FIRST BASEMAN CATCHING 
A HIGH BALL. 



182 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOETS 

before an inventive genius designed a wire mask 
which buckled about the head, and, while allowing per- 
fect freedom and sight, rendered the catcher safe from 
any chance ball striking his face. The next was the 
use of a large breastplate extending quite to the legs. 
This is made of rubber, and inflated so as to make a 
yielding cushion. The gloves which the catchers have 
worn ever since the days of the rubber mouthpiece 
have also undergone radical changes, and are to-day so 
heavily made as thoroughly to protect both hands, 
leaving free only the fingers of the right hand. 

Outside the battery, in these days of almost perfect 
fielding, the strongest factor is team play. Plenty of 
men can be found who can perform the ordinary duty 
of basemen and fielders, but the problem is to secure 
men for these positions who are strong batsmen and 
who harmonize well with one another. The usual 
merits for the individual players are : in a first base- 
man, ability to catch bad throwing ; in a second base- 
man, an especial capacity for covering a large amount 
of ground; in a third baseman, rapidity in fielding 
ground balls over to first. A third baseman must re- 
cover himself quickly and have a strong throw. A 
short-stop should be an accurate thrower, and a man 
of brains sufficient to take advantage of opportunities 
for double plays and fielding out advanced runners. 
The out-fielders must be fast, not only in covering 
ground, but also in returning balls to the diamond. 

Base-ball is a game for the people. The materials 
are inexpensive, and all that is wanted is a field. If 
one may judge from what one sees by the way, it 
is more difficult to say what will not answer for a 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE SPECTATOR 183 

ball-field than what will; for, in spite of carts, cabs, 
and police, no street is too small or too crowded for 
Young America to make a ball-field of it. With its 
eager young followers everywhere, and with many men 
now growing into the prime of life who have enjoyed 
it most heartily in their younger days, it is safe to say 
that as a sport, and as, par excellence, the American 
sport, it is sure of a long life. 



BASE-BALL— FOR THE PLAYER 

THE GROUND AND THE OUTFIT 

"IT^HILE laying out a base-ball ground is quite 
U a task, it is not more difficult than marking 
tennis-courts, and the result is much more lasting. 
The nature of the ground, and its surroundings, prac- 
tically determine the general position of the field : and 
on this account it is usually convenient to take what is 
technically known as the "back-stop"' for a starting- 
point. The back-stop is usually the front of the 
k * grand stand," or a convenient fence : and the rules 
provide that the back-stop must be at least ninety feet 
behind the home plate. There is no advantage in 
making that distance greater, so measuring ninety feet 
directly into the field from what is to be the catcher's 
back-stop locates the home plate. By fastening a tape 
at the home plate, and carrying it out 127 feet -4 inches 
in a straight line into the field, the position of the 
second base is found. Taking a line ISO feet long, 
fasten one end at the home plate and the other at 
second base. Then, seizing the line in the middle, 
carry it out first at one side, and then on the other. 
and where it is taut the locations of the first and third 
bases are determined. As the rules regarding the 
pitcher's position and the batsman's lines, as well as the 
lines restraining the coaches and players, are subject 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYER 185 

to frequent revision, it is best to purchase a book of 
base-ball rules of the particular year, and by referring to 
the diagrams therein contained determine the proper lay- 
out of these lines. One can thus always be sure of being 
up to date and thoroughly accurate in the markings of 
all these lines. Among the accessories it is customary 
to provide a square of canvas sufficiently large to cover 
the home plate and batsman's lines, and thus protect 
these lines during the practice preliminary to a game. 
Having thus laid out the field, we proceed to fur- 
ther mark the various points. In doing this, if the 
field is to be a permanent one, it is best to make use of 
the most improved apparatus ; but if the field is only a 
temporary one, there are various devices which save 
expense, and which answer the purpose quite satisfac- 
torily. The home plate is, by the rules, a whitened 
piece of rubber a foot square, sunk flush with the 
ground, its outer edges being within the lines to first 
and third bases. An excellent substitute for rubber is 
a piece of board painted white, or a bit of marble such 
as can be readily obtained at any marble-yard. The 
first, second, and third bases are canvas bags, 15 inches 
square, stuffed with any soft material, and so fastened 
as to have their centers at the corners of the diamond 
which we have already marked out. They will thus 
extend several inches outside the diamond. The cus- 
tomary method of fastening the bag is by means of a 
leather strap passing through loops upon the bag and 
directly around the center. This strap is slipped 
through an iron staple in the top of a post driven 
firmly into the ground at the corner of the diamond, 
and the strap is then buckled on the under side of the 



186 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

bag. The wooden post and the iron staples can be 
easily obtained, and it is qnite worth while to have 
them rather than let the base be movable, or to use a 
stone, which may be the cause of some serious injury 
to a runner. As for the bags, they can be home-made 
by procuring pieces of canvas (or old heavy carpet) 
and stuffing them with excelsior or rags, or, best, hair 
from an old chair, lounge, or mattress. If nothing 
better offers, shavings from any carpenter's shop will 
answer. The straps may be obtained at a harness- 
maker's, or a piece of stout clothes-line can be sub- 
stituted. 

Next, the pitcher's box must be permanently marked. 
This is done by flat iron plates or stones six inches 
square, sunk even with the surface at each corner. 
Wooden posts of smaller dimensions will answer 
equally well. 

It is customary to have the in-field well turfed, and 
this turf should extend behind the lines from second 
base to first and third for quite a distance, in order 
that the short-stop and second baseman may play well 
behind these lines. The turf of the out-field is not of 
so much importance. The turf of the in-field is cut 
out from the pitcher's box to the back-stop to the 
width of about nine feet. It is also cut out along the 
base lines, about one third that width. After the turf 
has been thus cut out, the spaces are filled with hard, 
well-packed earth until level with the field. All this 
turfing and cutting out of lines is intended, of course, 
for a permanent field, and where expense is of minor 
consideration. As a matter of fact, the players will 
very soon make the base-lines and batting-crease quite 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEK 



187 




DIAGEAM OF THE FIELD. 



marked on any field. Many a good in-field has no tnrf 
on it, and is called a " scalped" field. The batted balls 
travel faster and lower on such a field, but with greater 
regularity. 

To make a fair division of labor in laying out a field 
for immediate use, let three boys agree to furnish the 
iron staples, and posts (preferably of cedar) for the 
bases and pitcher's position, seven in all. The four for 
the pitcher's box may be anywhere from three to six 
inches square at the top, and two feet long ; those for 
the bases being three inches in diameter; and all of 
these sharpened to drive in like stakes. The staples, 
three in number, should be two inches wide. Let 
three others agree to furnish the bases : one boy to 



188 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

provide the six pieces of canvas or carpet cut about 
sixteen inches square; another boy to furnish three 
two-inch straps with buckles, or else sufficient rope to 
answer the purpose. These straps must be at least 
three feet long. Let the third boy see that the bags 
are looped for the straps, stuffed, and securely sewn. 
Let three others agree to furnish the home plate and 
to bring to the ground the following implements, to be 
used in laying out the positions and marking : a tape 
line 200 feet long, a supply of cord, a sharp spade, a 
sledge-hammer to drive stakes, a small hammer to 
drive in staples, some lime to mark out the lines, and a 
pail to wet it in. If any boy has a tennis-marker, let 
him bring it; it will save labor. In marking out the 
field for a match, there are a few lines to be made which 
are omitted in the above description, as they are only 
necessary at an important game. For instance, in or- 
dinary games, the imaginary line from home to third 
is enough to show the "foul" ground, as the base-line 
worn by runners makes a fair guide. As a matter of 
actual law, however, the foul-lines are lines drawn 
along the outer edges of the home plate and passing 
through the outer edge of the first and third bags. The 
foul-line thus does not run exactly along the base-line 
which we originally marked out, but, starting with it, 
is 7J inches from it at third and first. It is, of course, 
wholly within the cut of three feet where the turf has 
been taken out. These foul-lines should extend to the 
boundaries of the ground, and should then be pro- 
longed back of the home plate to the end of the field, 
forming the "catcher's lines," as they are called. 

The " coacher's " or " captain's lines " are determined 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEK 189 

by taking two points fifteen feet from a foul-line and 
seventy-five feet from the catcher's line, then drawing 
two lines on each side, one parallel to the foul-line, the 
other parallel to the catcher's line. 

The "player's lines" are drawn from the catcher's 
lines, fifty feet from the foul-lines, and parallel to 



LATIKG OUT AN AMATEUR FIELD. 



them. As both these coacher's and player's lines are 
drawn merely to keep the men in their proper places, 
where they will not interfere with the game, and as 
the catcher's lines are in turn drawn as points of 
measurement for the other lines, it is hardly worth 
while to go to all this trouble except for an important 
match. 

For the benefit of those players whose club treasury 
is in such a prosperous condition as to make unneces- 
sary the home-made devices described above, it is 



190 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

well to say that a set of base bags with straps and 
spikes can be purchased at any base-ball outfitter's for 
$4, $5, or $7, according to quality, while a rubber 
home-plate costs $7, a marble one $3, and an iron 
one $1. 

The next articles for our consideration are the im- 
plements for the players. The best ball to purchase is 
the regular " league" ball. These balls are the most 
uniform in manufacture and quality, and give the best 
satisfaction in the long run. They can be purchased 
for $1.50, with a discount for quantity. It is worth 
while to purchase more than one, because it often 
happens that wet grass ruins the cover of the ball. 
For this reason, when a base-ball has been used in wet 
weather it should be put aside, and the next time the 
nine wish to practise on a wet day this ball, which 
will be as hard as a rock, should be brought out. As 
soon as it is wet it softens again, and it is just as use- 
ful as a new one would be after fifteen minutes' wet- 
ting. This constant wetting rots the covers, but a 
harness-maker will re-cover the balls, and they may be 
used for practice. In the kinds of bats there is far 
more variety. A special bat is said to be made of 
wagon-tongue, but the more commonly favored is of 
ash, second-growth, and thoroughly seasoned. These 
can be purchased for from twenty-five cents to one dol- 
lar each, according to the quality of the wood. Lighter 
bats are made of willow; and the cheapest, of bass- 
wood. These do not last so well as ash, however. The 
rules specify that the bat shall not be over 2J inches in 
diameter, nor more than 42 inches in length. In select- 
ing a bat, individual taste is the best guide as to mat- 



BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYER 191 

ters of weight and balance, but the grain should be ex- 
amined carefully, in order that one may not choose a 
stick that will leave him in the lurch by breaking just 
as he becomes accustomed to it. The grain should run 
lengthwise, and not cross sharply, particularly over 
the handle. A knot in the handle will often lead to a 
break, but one farther down toward the end is not of 
any moment. If a bat is varnished highly, the handle 
should be scraped, so that it will not turn easily in the 
hands. The first baseman and catcher should each 
wear gloves to protect the hands from the constant 
pounding of the ball which playing these positions 
involves. Any one can make a very serviceable pair 
of base-ball gloves out of a stout pair of buckskins. 
The fingers and thumbs should be cut off at the first 
joint for the basemen, and if any extra padding is 
needed, pieces of felt can be sewn on. The catcher's 
gloves can be made in a similar way, except that the 
left-hand glove is kept whole and the ends of the 
fingers reinforced by heavy leather tips. A shoemaker 
will put on these tips, and they should be about an 
inch and a half long. Both gloves should have pad- 
ding in the palm and over the ball of the thumb. This 
padding can be made of as many layers of felt as are 
desired, sewn in when the glove is turned wrong side 
out. Many of the best catchers prefer to do their own 
padding. The pads should be so cut that they run up 
into the finger a little way, and thus form a protection 
for the base of the fingers. By those who wish to pur- 
chase gloves, and thus save the trouble of making 
them, the catcher's gloves can be purchased for $3.50 
and $5. The basemen's gloves cost about $2.50. Every 



192 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



man who intends playing behind the bat should wear a 
mask, and it is best to purchase a good one, as the 
cheap ones are likely to be fragile, not well made, and 
may perhaps be broken by a foul tip. While an acci- 




ARTICLES OF A BASE-BALL OUTFIT. 



dent from a broken mask is very unusual, as the wires 
are so bent as to spring outward when broken, still it 
is not well, for the sake of a slight saving, to run any 
risks of this kind. A good mask will cost from $2 
to $4. 

A body protector is also an admirable invention, and 
saves many a bruise. The cheaper ones are made of 
leather and canvas, and cost about $5. The best are 
made of rubber, and can be inflated so as to form a 
kind of air pillow. These cost from $6 to $10. 

Individual uniforms next attract our attention. A 
tennis or cricket suit, or any set of flannels, will answer 
nicely. A flannel shirt and an old pair of long trousers 
tied or strapped in at the ankles was an old-fashioned 
uniform, and it is just as serviceable to-day. The 
most convenient trousers, however, are of the Knicker- 
bocker pattern, and it is well to pad them heavily 



BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB 193 

at the knees and along the side of the leg and thigh, 
particularly if one is to do any sliding to bases. This 
padding can be made by quilting in any heavy pieces 
of cloth. The long stockings should be heavy and 
stout, and extend well above the knee. The shoes 
should be broad and easy, with low heels, and may be 
of canvas or leather, the latter being the most lasting. 
A triangular spike is placed on the sole of each shoe in 
order to prevent slipping, and of these spikes, the 
broad ones are the easiest and best. Sometimes a 
smaller plate is worn on the heel as well. The pitcher 
should have upon the toe of his right shoe a metal 
plate, to prevent the speedy wearing out of the shoe in 
pitching. This plate is a sort of cap, and covers the 
inside corner of the shoe. Any shoemaker can put one 
on. A cap with a visor is the most convenient form of 
headgear, and interferes least with the player's com- 
fort. Complete uniforms can be purchased from the 
outfitters for from $5 to $30. Below is a list of the 
separate articles, showing the range in prices : Shirts, 
$2.00 to $5.00 ; trousers, $1.75 to $4.50 ; stockings, 50c. 
to $1.50 ; caps, 50c. to $1.00 • belts, 25c. to 30c. ; shoes, 
$2.00 to $7.00 ; spikes, 15c. to 75c. ; toe-plate, 50c. 

Base-ball is a game so entirely dependent upon the 
condition of the ground and weather, that it never can 
become, in our climate, an all-the-year-round pastime. 
No one can play base-ball when the fingers are numb 
with cold, nor can there be any play upon a ground 
covered with snow. But the sport has become so 
scientific, and practice is so essential to its highest 
development, that quite a proportion of the players 
have now taken up some systematic winter practice. 

13 



194 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

Particularly is this the case among college and school 
nines. Professionals, making a business of following 
the game, can travel to Southern cities, where they 
may anticipate the Northern season by several weeks 
of outdoor practice; but those who seek it merely as 
a pastime cannot enjoy any such means of attaining 
additional skill. College and school boys, therefore, 
have recourse to gymnasiums, where, by a judicious 
use of certain apparatus, they prepare themselves for 
the regular field work. Some of the best equipped 
of these gymnasiums have long, low alleys, completely 
bounded by two walls and a wire netting, in which, 
throwing and batting can be practised. These are 
known as "cages." The irregular and indiscriminate 
use of the apparatus, or even of the cage, results in 
little good to the player, but a systematic and well- 
directed use of both tends to put a nine into the field 
in a superior condition for the work required. In 
addition to this, the benefit to the general health of 
regular exercise during the winter and early spring 
is not to be disregarded as a factor in the problem 
of developing successful nines. The use of the ap- 
paratus should be directed toward the development 
and strengthening of the various muscles which are 
to bear the brunt of the labor when on the field. 

Many of the exercises really need no equipment 
such as a gymnasium affords, and one can take advan- 
tage of any room at home. A pair of dumb-bells, the 
Indian-clubs, a rope fastened to the ceiling or a beam, 
an old foot-ball hung as a " punching-bag," another 
rope, on which a heavy "spool" slides freely, stretched 
from a point about the height of a man's shoulder 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 



195 



up to the opposite wall, where it joins the ceiling — 
such an amount of apparatus will give full opportunity 
for the best kind of exercise. The only part needing 
any explanation is, perhaps, the sliding-spool. This 
is an admirable device for cultivating the muscles 
used in throwing. The point at which the spool 




THE BODY PROTECTOR AND CATCHER'S MASK. 

would come in contact with the ceiling should be well 
padded with some rather inelastic substance, in 
order that the spool may not rebound too severely. 
By throwing the spool along the rope a number of 
times daily, any man can acquire a powerful throw. 
The winter work of a college nine will give a good 
idea of the methods practised in indoor preparation. 
There are usually at least twenty candidates for posi- 



196 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

tions, and, as it is impossible that all should prac- 
tise the same work at the same time, these candidates 
are usually divided into squads of perhaps four men 
each. The times are so arranged as to give to each 
squad an allotted hour in which they can have the 
use of the cage and other apparatus. These squads 
are still further subdivided into pairs, and, while two 
of them occupy the cage, the other two make use of 
the running-track and apparatus. In the use of the 
cage the men do not attempt to practise violently, 
but rather to acquire good form, both in batting and 
fielding. One of the men pitches for the other to 
bat, and the batter endeavors to meet the ball squarely, 
with the bat moving on a line. He also is particular 
to accustom himself to meet the ball at any height, 
and to stand firmly on his feet when striking. In 
fielding practice one of the men bats grounders for 
his comrade, who stands at the other end of the cage, 
and, picking up the ball, throws it at a spot marked 
on the end wall at about the height of a man's chest. 
The batter does not drive the ball as hard as possible 
at his companion, but at a medium rate of speed. In 
picking up and throwing, the first thing to acquire 
is quickness and freedom of movement. Accuracy 
and force come very rapidly in this daily practice, 
so that a player soon finds it simple enough to take 
the ball cleanly and get it easily down to the mark. 
On the running-track, the men take a few turns to 
limber up, and then practise quick starting, and 
short, sharp spurts at full speed, rather than the more 
leisurely, long-continued run of the men who are 
training for boating honors. 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEK 



197 



In connection with the running-track one should 
mention a device for practising sliding to bases which 
has proved of the greatest practical advantage to 
players. One of the college nines, by making use 




PITCHER AT PEACTICE IN THE " CAGE." 



of this sliding-bag during their winter practice, ac- 
quired such dexterity as to have for that year a record 
in stealing bases more than three times that of any 
other nine in the association. This sliding apparatus 
may be rigged up in a variety of ways, the only ob- 
ject to be attained being the arrangement of a yield- 
ing cushion upon which a man may practise sliding 
until he acquires sufficient confidence and dexterity 
to make it no effort of will for him to plunge head- 



198 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

foremost at the base. The first one of these cushions 
consisted of a frame, about fifteen feet long and three 
or four feet wide, upon which was tightly stretched 
a piece of carpet. 

The work with the boxing-gloves is designed to 
improve the man's general muscular development, 
make him quick and firm upon his feet, and rapid in 
judgment and action. The men usually devote most 
of the time to going through a certain set of exer- 
cises, rather than to indulging in "slugging" matches. 
The dumb-bells, Indian-clubs, and other general ap- 
paratus in a gymnasium are used with a view to 
acquiring a uniform development as well as a con- 
siderable range of muscular action. Whenever any 
player is inordinately or unevenly developed in any 
set of muscles (particularly if he has over-developed 
the shoulders), he is not encouraged to strengthen 
the already too powerful muscles, but is so trained 
as to give them flexibility and freedom of action. 
Exercise that toughens the hands — such as swinging 
on the flying-rings, or rope-climbing — is found to be 
useful. 

After the men have gone through their round of 
exercise, they take a shower-bath, are thoroughly 
" rubbed down," and then their training is over for the 
day. The amount of time required is probably not 
more than an hour or an hour and a half, and yet the 
effect upon the condition of the men is quite notice- 
able before the end of the month. In no respect is the 
result of this gymnasium work more evident than in 
the improvement in throwing. Not only is it the ex- 
ception to find men who have undergone this winter 



BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEK 199 

work suffering from lame arms when they begin prac- 
tice on the field, but the accuracy and strength of their 
throwing is also greatly increased. One of the reasons 
for this is, that in throwing in the cage the player is 
compelled to throw the ball low, because of the low 
ceiling, which continually operates to improve the 
player's ability to shoot the ball along on a line rather 
than " up and over." 

The winter training outside of this regular gymna- 
sium practice, is not considered to be of any very great 
importance. The men pay no special attention to their 
diet, but avoid every kind of excess. An outdoor cage 
is sometimes erected, in which the men may have out- 
door practice in pleasant weather. The chief advan- 
tage of this cage is the better light for batting. It is 
also possible by its use to get a little real practice on 
taking grounders. The outdoor cage is usually a very 
crude affair, and consists of netting so strung on posts 
as to encompass an alley about seventy feet long by 
twenty wide. 

With the first warm sunshine that comes after the 
frost is out of the ground, there stirs in the heart of 
the base-ball player an intense desire to get into the 
field and begin playing. I remember a young man 
who used to work in clock factories in Connecticut. 
Although an excellent workman, he never seemed to 
secure any permanent position, but drifted from one 
town to another. Early one fall he applied to me for a 
position, and as he showed that he knew his trade he 
obtained employment. He worked admirably and well, 
through the winter and even into the spring. One 
day — and it was a beautiful day, everything just 



200 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



turning green and the sun shining as bright and warm 



L fc> o 



<^ 



as in midsummer — I missed him, and asked the fore- 
man of the room what had become of him. " Oh, he 's 




PRACTISING THROWING WITH THE SPOOL. 



off," was the reply ; " he '11 get his kit to-morrow, and 
you won't see him again till uext fall." I took pains 
to meet the young mau the next morning, when he 
came to take away his traps. " What 's the matter ? " I 
inquired. " Nothing," said he, " 'cept yesterday I heard 
a blue-bird singin', and I don't do auy work iu shops 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 201 

after that." A similar yearning to be out of doors 
tempts the ball-player. Many times the fine weather 
is treacherous, and premature practice is cut short, or 
even rendered detrimental to the welfare of a nine, by 
damp, chilly winds. As a rule, it is wise to take advan- 
tage of only the very warmest days, practising in the 
early afternoon, until the weather is fairly settled. 
The iSTew York nine were once obliged to take a vaca- 
tion, after a few weeks of practice in a cold spring, 
because so many of the men had lamenesses of one kind 
or another from exposure in inclement weather. When 
a college nine goes on the field for the first time, there 
is usually a superfluity of enthusiasm, which leads 
players to practise too long or too violently. Captains 
have learned this, and, unless they are carried away 
with the same tendency, do not encourage any long 
practice during the first weeks. After that, as the men 
become "broken in" and the weather improves, the 
players are allowed to do more work. All the men 
playing in the out-field can practise together, as the 
work of the three fielders is much the same. These 
men take positions in the out-field in something of a 
cluster (not so near, however, as to interfere with one 
another), while a batter knocks fly -balls out to them 
which they take turns in catching. A most important 
preliminary to this practice is the selection of an ex- 
perienced man to bat the ball. There are many men who 
may be good players, but to whom knocking flies to an 
out-field is an utter impossibility. Such men may 
have to hit the ball a half-dozen times before sending 
a fly-ball near any of the fielders. Again, it is not ad- 
visable to select a man who knocks only the simplest 



202 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

kind of flies every time, — although such a man is to be 
preferred to the wild hitter who sends the men chasing 
a half-dozen failures in order to receive one catch. 
The batter should be able to knock high flies, line hits, 
long flies, and occasionally a sharp, hot grounder. His 
object is to give the fielders as much practice of every 
kind as possible, and a good man will gauge the 
ground the fielders can* cover, and, while avoiding 
" running them to death," will occasionally give each 
man an opportunity to make a brilliant catch. Nothing 
encourages and improves the candidates so much as 
keeping their ambition thoroughly aroused during the 
entire time of practice. 



FIELDING, THROWING, AND GENERAL PRACTICE 

Candidates for in-field positions are usually too 
numerous to admit of their all practising together, 
as would-be out-fielders may do. On this account it 
is customary for them to take turns, in parties of 
perhaps four at a time. The others, who are obliged 
to wait their turn, make themselves useful as bats- 
men to the rest; or they may stand about half-way 
between the out-fielders and the man batting to them, 
and thereby get an occasional ball, besides returning 
the ball to the batter for the out-fielders. To those 
who take the bases balls are sent in turn, or occa- 
sionally at random, which they field over to the first- 
base man. He usually practises throwing to third 
base. The batsman contrives to give each man a 
variety of balls, mostly grounders, such as each would 



BASE-BALL — FOK THE PLAYEK 



203 



be called upon to take in a game. An occasional 
short high fly is knocked, and once in a while a sharp 
liner. While the ball is sometimes batted directly at 
the fielder, the best practice for him is to have it sent 
frequently upon one side or the other of the place upon 




BATTING FOR THE FIELDERS' PRACTICE. 



which he stands. Thus, in the case of the third base- 
man, whose position is a few feet inside the line to 
the home plate and a little behind the line from 
second to third, balls should be batted not only along 
the front line occasionally, but very often several feet 
toward the short-stop. One of the best arrangements 
between a short-stop and a third baseman is for the 
latter to take all slow hits coming where he can run 
in and handle them, while the short-stop plays what is 



204 WALTER GAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

known as a " deep-field, r — that is, considerably back 
of the base line, — and takes whatever balls the third 
baseman cannot reach on account of their speed or 
direction. In this way much more ground can be 
satisfactorily covered by these two men. When men 
are practising these plays, the batter should send 
some slow, boundiug balls directed toward the short- 
stop, and the third baseman should run in on them 
and handle them. Then a sharp drive should be sent, 
which the short-stop will receive, as the other could 
not reach it in time. It is not a difficult matter for 
two men to acquire this style of play, and when once 
it is learned it makes a very strong fielding com- 
bination. 

The second baseman plays about on a line with 
his base, but away from it toward first some twenty 
feet or so. The batter should send the balls on both 
sides of him, extending his field as much as possible. 
In batting over the second-base bag, however, the 
batter should not drive the ball too fast, or it will be 
practically a base-hit, and too many such drives tend 
to discourage the player who zealously tries for each. 
A slow hit is one of the most difficult for a second 
baseman to handle, particularly if he plays well back 
in order to cover ground. It is not so much that he 
cannot run up rapidly on it, but that it usually comes 
to him just about the spot most cut up by the base 
line, and where an irregular bound puts it out of the 
question for him to field it cleanly. On this account 
the batter should give the second baseman plenty 
of this very kind to take, in order that he may acquire 
the habit of rapid judgment as to how far in he should 



BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEK 205 

meet the ball. A fly should be occasionally batted 
almost over the first baseman's head, just a little too 
high for that player to reach. The second baseman 
can take many of these, and practice soon shows him 
that he can cover a deal of ground there. 

In batting to the first baseman, balls should be 
knocked that force him to use good judgment as to 
whether he should go after them or let the second 
baseman take them. These and slow grounders along 
the base line are the ones upon which he will need 
the most practice. 

While the in-field and out-field are thus getting 
their general practice, the batteries are usually "lim- 
bering up," although the pitcher should be careful 
not to indulge in a severe delivery until he faces 
a batsman, as it is too great a strain upon him for 
nothing. He should strive merely to get the mus- 
cles of his arm working easily and freely, while the 
catcher also warms himself up gradually to the work. 

Batting practice can be had in two ways: first, by 
placing the batter at the plate and stopping the or- 
dinary practice in the in-field; second, by stationing 
him out to one side, where he will not materially in- 
terfere with the practice. The latter is preferable, as 
accomplishing more work in the same time. 

The regular pitchers ought not to be obliged to do 
all the pitching for this batting practice. In fact, it 
is best to have them do only as much of it as they 
can do without getting at all tired or listless. Two 
or three men who throw well and have a moderate 
control of the curves should be brought out to do a 
greater part of this rather tedious work. Nothing is 



206 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

more demoralizing to a good pitcher than to keep 
him pitching for batting practice, until he becomes 
tired and careless. Each man should be given a cer- 
tain number of hits, until all have had a turn. After 
this it is wise to select the most promising nine men, 
and arranging them in their positions, to place a tenth 
man at the bat and one or two substitutes on the 
bases. Then let the playing be as if it were a regu- 
lar game. This gives a new and added interest just at 
the time when the men are perhaps becoming a little 
tired. After fifteen minutes of this work, the captain, 
or (if he be not a successful batter for the practice) 
some other player, takes the bat and ball and, stand- 
ing on the home plate, knocks the ball to the in-field 
or out-field, as he chooses, calling out at the same 
time what play to make with the ball. In this he 
should give every man some difficult play to execute; 
such, for instance, as stationing a runner on third 
with instructions to try to come in on a fly after the 
ball is caught, and then knocking a fly to the out- 
fielder and having him send the ball in to the plate 
to intercept the man. A few double plays in the 
in-field, some practice in catching a runner between 
bases, a little throwing to second by the catcher, and 
some fielding home by the in-field should complete 
the work of the day. 

Now, a few words regarding the objects to be aimed 
at in this general practice. First, as regards throw- 
ing. Every one has what may be called a natural 
way of throwing the ball, but this so-called "natural 
way" usually means a perverted method acquired 
through carelessness, or attempts to throw too hard 



BASE-BALL — FOB, THE PLAYER 207 

before the arm is sufficiently accustomed to the work. 
As a result of this, there are few boys or college men 
who may not learn a great deal in the matter of 
throwing by careful attention for a few weeks to one 
or two points. The first man to whom attention 
should be called is the man who takes a hop, skip, 
and jump before he lets the ball go. No man can 
run fast enough to beat a thrown ball, and conse- 
quently it takes longer to carry the ball part way 
and throw it the rest, than it does to throw it all 
the way. Therefore the first thing for the man who 
has acquired this trick to do, is to stand still when 
he gets the ball, and then throw it. The opposite 
fault to this is that of leaning away when throwing. 
A man gets a sharp grounder, and throws the ball 
before he has recovered his balance, and the force of 
his throw is thereby greatly diminished. While this 
is not • nearly so common as the other fault, it is 
quite as difficult to correct. The happy medium be- 
tween the two is the man who receives the ball and, 
quickly straightening himself, drives it while leaning 
forward; and, as it leaves his hand, takes his single 
step in the direction of his throw. 

So much for the feet and body, now for the arm, 
hand, and wrist. 

The best and most accurate throwers are those who 
continually practise what is termed a short-arm throw. 
To get an idea of the first steps toward the acquisition 
of this method, let the player take the ball in his hand, 
and bringing it back just level with his ear, planting 
both feet firmly, attempt to throw the ball without 
using the legs or body. At first the throw is awkward 



208 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



and feeble, but constant practice speedily results in 
moderate speed and peculiar accuracy. After steady 
practice at this until quite a pace is acquired, the man 

may be allowed to use his legs and 
body to increase the speed, still, 
however, sticking to the straight, 
forward motion of the hand, wrist, 
and the arm. The secret of the 
throw is, of course, keeping the 
hand in a line with the arm and 
not swinging it out to the side 
and away from the head, where 
much of the accuracy and some 
of the quickness is lost. Certain 
catchers have brought this style 
of throw to such a pitch of per- 
fection as to get the ball away 
toward second almost on the in- 
stant it strikes the hands. They 
aid the throwing by a slight twist 
of the body. 
The quickness of this method of throwing is due to 
the fact that there is no delay caused by drawing 
back the arm past the head or by turning the body 
around, which lose so much valuable time. Its accu- 
racy is due to the fact that it is easier to aim at an 
object with a hand in front of the eyes than when it is 
out beyond the shoulder. One can easily ascertain this 
by comparing the ease of pointing the index finger at 
any object when the hand is in front of the face, with 
the difficulty of doing so when the arm is extended out 
sideways from the body. Still further, in the almost 




SHORT-ARM THROW, 
THE BEGINNING. 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEK 



209 



round-arm throwing, which many players use, the 
hand describes an arc, and the ball must be let go at 
the proper point to go true. If let go at any other 
point in the swing, the throw is certain to be wild. 
In the other method, that of straight-arm throwing, 
any variation is far more likely to be a variation 
in height only, and in that respect the variation 
may be greater without serious error. A straight- 
arm throw sends a ball much easier to handle than 
the side-arm style. The latter is likely to curve, 
bound irregularly, and be more inconvenient for the 
baseman. In-field throwing should be on a line, as 
much as possible, and there are few distances to be 
covered there that require any "up 
and over" throwing. In getting a 
ball in from a deep out-field, the 
distance is sometimes so great that 
none but professionals or excep- 
tionally strong throwers can drive 
the ball in except by giving it 
quite an upward direction; even 
then, however, one should be care- 
ful to keep the ball fairly well 
down, as it is far better to have it 
reach the catcher on the bound 
than to go sailing over his head. 
" Keep it down " is a cardinal rule 
when fielding to the home plate 
from the field. If a low ball be 
thrown, it is easier for the catcher to touch the runner, 
who in a tight place will invariably slide as close to the 
ground as possible. A high throw gives the catcher 




SHORT- ABM THROW, 
THE EXD. 



14 



210 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



almost no chance to recover and put the ball on the 
man, whereas a low throw brings his hands in the 
most advantageous position for touching the runner. 




FIRST BASEMAK THROWING TO SECOND FOR A DOUBLE-PLAT. 



The same is, of course, true in the case of the catcher's 
throws to the second or the other bases, to put out 
the runner. 

The position of the fingers when throwing a ball is a 
point upon which there are individual differences of 
opinion ; but the majority of the best throwers in the 
country use principally the fore-finger and middle- 
finger in giving direction to the ball. Further partic- 
ulars regarding special throwing will be noted in 
commenting upon the individual positions. 

Handling the ball well is quite as important an ele- 
ment in the game as throwing. By the non-playing 
spectator there is little difference noted between the 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYER 211 

various ways of catching a fly or picking up a 
grounder. Muffs and fumbles are the only errors of 
this kind which excite their adverse comment ; but, in 
point of fact, there are errors almost as serious which 
entirely escape their observation. A player may hang 
back from a slow hit so long that even though he 
pick it up well and throw it accurately the runner will 
nevertheless reach his base. Indeed, the scorer may 
give it as a base-hit, and the fielder escape a deserved 
error. Again, a fielder may, by not starting quickly 
enough, be obliged to turn and run with a fly so that 
he catches it while facing away from the plate, and is 
thus unable to field the ball in, in time to intercept 
a runner who starts from third after the catch. 
Sometimes it is necessary to catch the ball in this 
way, but it should be the last resort ; not only because 
it is very difficult, but also because this method makes 
it impossible to get a quick return of the ball when 
required. An in-fielder should always take the ball 
while coming forward if possible. This does not mean 
that he should dash madly into the ball, but that his 
weight should be moving in an advantageous direc- 
tion when he takes it. It is best to bring the heels 
together just as the player stoops for the ball, if it be a 
low one, and hug the ground closely. The knees should 
bend, and the hands and arms, as they go down, will 
make, with the legs, an almost impassable barrier, so 
that even should the player fail to get the ball cleanly 
in his hands, he will stop it, and perhaps still have time 
to field it. The end to be aimed at is, of course, to 
always take the ball on a good bound ; but no one can 
rely upon doing this invariably, as irregularities of the 



212 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

ground and the peculiarities of batting render exact 
results impossible. The fielder must also bear in mind 
the fact that he should take the ball on the earliest good 
bound, and not, by waiting or backing away, make his 
throw necessarily a hurried one. There are times 
when good judgment leads a player to take the ball a 
little late; as, for instance, when he has an opportunity 
for a double-play with the ball coming directly at the 
base he wishes to cover. By a step backward he can 
take the ball while his foot is touching the bag, and 
then instantly throw to the other base ; whereas by 
meeting the ball early, he would have to run back a 
step or two to touch the base before throwing. 

Rapidity of judgment is more valuable in base-ball 
than in almost any other sport, and it is only this 
quick thinking which will enable a player to take 
every advantage that offers. Wherever it is practi- 
cable, a fielder should endeavor to take the ball in the 
most convenient position for immediate throwing 
to the quarter where the ball is most needed. For in- 
stance, a right-handed player should, as far as possi- 
ble, avoid taking the ball while turned to the left, when, 
by a little extra effort, he can bring himself squarely in 
front of it. The out-fielders wdll profit by the same 
advice as has been given for the in-fielders, and in 
addition they should remember that they have far 
more distance to cover. AVhen a ball is pitched, every 
out-fielder should be ready for an instant start, and 
if a fly be batted each should be off toward the spot 
where it will probably fall. Of course, if the ball is 
falling in left-field, the right-fielder after a step or two 
may stop; but the center-fielder should go on, not to 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 



213 



take the fly, but to be ready to assist if the ball goes 
through the left-fielder's hands. An out-fielder should 
bear in mind one cardinal principle, namely, that he 
should run as fast as possible until he nears the spot 




MAKING SURE OF A CATCH.— LEFT-FIELDER CATCHING, 
CENTER-FIELDER BACKING HIM UP. 



where the ball is coming. Then he can slow up, but 
his fast running should begin as he starts, and not 
after he has gone half way, and finds that he is likely 
to be late. A moderate runner who starts instantly 
for the right spot makes a far better fielder than a 
more speedy man who gets off slowly, and whose judg- 
ment of the spot where the ball will probably land 
is not so good. A fly should always be handled in 



21-i WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOETS 

front of a man if possible, as lie is then in a better 
position to throw it if caught, as well as to stop and 
return it if a muff is made. In taking a grounder, 
an out-fielder should sacrifice rapidity of handling to 
security. A ground hit which goes by an out-fielder 
is so disastrous that no chance of missing it should 
be taken. He must stop it, even though, as the ex- 
pression has it, he has to "lie down before it." The 
out-field is usually rougher and more irregular than 
the in-field, and hence the player must be more care- 
ful to put himself directly in the pathway of the ball. 
In catching a fly, the hands should be used cup- 
fashion, the thumbs up and the lower edges of the 
hands brought close together. Line-hits can not, of 
course, be handled in this way, but must be taken 
like thrown balls, with the little fingers in front and 
the thumbs forming the back of the cup; a low ball, 
with the thumbs forward and the edges of the hands 
forming the back. It is occasionally necessary to take 
a ball directly over the head, owing to a sudden 
change in its direction due to the wind carrying it 
over the player. Such balls must be taken with the 
little fingers up and the thumbs making the bottom 
of the cup. 

The base-running practice of a nine consists for the 
most part of quick starting and bold sliding. The 
gymnasium work will have added greatly to the abili- 
ties of the men in these directions, but this must be 
reinforced by daily work on the field. The point 
most neglected, and yet the most vital to success, is 
a quick start for first after hitting the ball. Many a 
slow hit is turned into a base-hit by the speed and 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYEB 



215 







%f 


I; 






M ML 




o 

a 


I 







' * 



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tu 



?: 



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216 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

quickness of the runner. Many an error is saved an 
in-fielder by the slowness of the batter in getting 
under way. Every man should be made to practise 
this start until he springs toward first the instant the 
ball leaves his bat. If a player can be impressed with 
the importance of this, by showing him how often it 
is that the ball beats the runner by the merest frac- 
tion of a second, he will appreciate the advantage to 
be gained, and will himself use all his energies toward 
the acquisition of this quick start. 

Such points of play must be made habitual to the 
player by constant practice, because, no matter how 
much he may desire to make them at certain times, 
as, for instance, in the ninth inning, with perhaps his 
single run required to win, he is not capable of doing 
so unless his former work has been directed toward 
acquiring them. 

The next practice is in " stealing second." The bat- 
tery should be placed in their places, and the runner 
on first base. The pitcher should hold the runner as 
close to the base as he can by motions and an occa- 
sional throw, exactly as he would in a game, and the 
runner should be sent down when a good opportunity 
offers. He should be coached to take as great a lead 
as he can with security, always bearing in mind, how- 
ever, that he should not lead off so far as to make 
it necessary for him to be off his balance in the wrong 
direction, for a good start is worth two or three feet 
of lead. In taking his lead he should be willing to 
go far enough at times to make it necessary for him 
to go back for first with his hands if the pitcher 
throws to the bag, for by getting back in that way 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEE 



217 




218 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

he is enabled to take a little longer lead. When he 
starts for second, it should be with his whole heart 
and as if his life depended upon it. Here again, 
if necessary, he must slide for it, going head first at 
the base, and taking it with his hand. When the base- 
man is in the way it is sometimes necessary to slide 
feet first in order to avoid injury. 

There are two cautions to be remembered in this 
play. One is to slide as far behind the baseman as 
it is possible to do, and yet catch the bag; the other, 
not to begin to slide so early as to lose the advantage 
of the last step or two of the run. This last caution 
is by no means a needless one, as men who are expert 
at sliding are very likely to fall into the habit of "slid- 
ing up to the bag"; beginning the slide so early as 
to lose headway and valuable speed, and thus be so 
slow as to be touched by the baseman before the 
hand reaches the bag. 



THE BASEMEN AND THE SHORT-STOP 

During all the general training involved in the prac- 
tice mentioned in the former paragraphs, there must 
also be particular coaching for each individual posi- 
tion; and it is in this position-work that the players 
improve most rapidly, later in the season, when each 
has been assigned to his own place. 

The in-fielders are the first to exhibit the good 
effects of practice, and the methods of perfecting their 
play are most interesting. For instance, the third 
baseman usually begins his season by very slow 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEE 



219 



playing He finds that from third base to first is a 
considerable distance, and that he has to make an 
effort in order to get the ball over. As a result of this 
feeling, it takes him longer to throw than it should, 
and any ball batted sharply and rather close to his 
base is a safe hit ; because, even if he stop it, the run- 
ner will reach the base before the baseman can field it. 



Out J 




The first coaching, then, for the third baseman should 
be with the object of acquiring a sharp, strong throw. 
He must therefore practise steadily the short-arm 
throw already described — the hand being brought 
back and close to the ear, and nearly level with it, 
instead of swinging at arm's-length, away from the 
body. For some time it will perhaps seem almost im- 
possible to get the ball over to first by means of 
this throw, but in a week's practice that result is 
achieved satisfactorily, and thenceforth the third base- 
man will be little troubled about his throwing. His 
speed and accuracy will be increased by every day of 



•220 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

his practice, and he will seldom disgrace himself by 
anything like a wild throw. 

Of all the in-fielders, it especially belongs to this 
player to throw swiftly, and also to get the ball away 
quickly. To acquire this latter skill should not be 
nearly so difficult as most amateurs find it. The rea- 
son for their difficulty lies in the fact that the ordinary 
player does not analyze the play sufficiently in his own 
mind to discover in just what part of it he is deficient. 
The result is, that the entire play becomes hurried and 
inaccurate; and once careless, instead of improving 
the player is likely to retrograde. 

Just to illustrate this, let us analyze the play : Sup- 
pose a ball be batted parallel to the third-base line 
two feet inside that line. The ordinary amateur third 
baseman, by failing to make a sharp start, is obliged 
to take such a ball just as it goes by the bag, and as a 
result he is turned partially away from first base, 
and is running from that point as well. This makes 
it necessary for him first to stop his run and then to 
turn about, so as to face the base before throwing. All 
this preparation takes so much time that there is sel- 
dom much use in his throwing the ball over at all ; but 
as he is too hurried to realize this, over it goes, — not 
infrequently with a wild throw into the bargain. 

Xow let us watch a good professional, and note the 
difference. I remember seeing Denny, at one time a 
noted third baseman, execute this play once on a 
"scorching drive" just inside the line. The instant 
the bat hit the ball, I saw Denny jump for the third- 
base line. So quick was the spring and so clever the 
intuition by which, from the direction of the stroke, he 



BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEK 



221 



realized where the ball was coming, that he and the 
ball met in front of third base ; and Denny was actually 
throwing the ball to first before the rnnner had taken a 
half-dozen steps. Of course, all third basemen are not 
so quick and clever as Denny, but every amateur who 
fills that position can by an instant start, instead of a 



fr 




"JUMP EN FRO>T OF THE BALL." 



slow one, meet the majority of batted balls before they 
can go so far past him as to turn him away from first. 
To turn away from first is the great fault, and to its 
correction the coach must give his attention, and the 
player must direct his labor. "Jump in front of the 
ball," is the best coaching order that can be given 
any in-fielder, but it is particularly good for the third 
baseman. 

Picking up the ball is the next step of the play. If 
possible it should be taken cleanly in the hands, of 
course ; but that is not of nearly so much moment as 
to get in front of it early, and thus stop it. If a third 
baseman gets a sharp hit anywhere in front of the 
line from second to third, and he is a swift thrower, he 



222 WALTEK CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

can stop the ball by letting it strike him, and, picking 
it np, get it to first base before the runner. But if the 
fielder takes the ball a few feet behind that line and 
while running toward foul ground, the best handling 
will seldom enable him to catch the runner. 

Finally comes the execution of the throw itself. He 
should use the short-arm throw and lean toward first. 
This latter suggestion is an important one, and should 
be continually in the player's mind during his daily 
practice. Whenever he gets the ball he should recover 
speedily, and with what becomes almost a second nature, 
should lean toward the point to which he is to throw. 
The entire action in detail, then, should be: instantly 
jump in front of the ball; while picking it up, recover 
a steady position, and leaning toward first, throw as 
nearly on a line as possible. Of these, the particular 
part of the play which can be hurried to least advan- 
tage, and yet the part which the inexperienced fielder 
oftenest endeavors to hurry, is picking up the ball. It 
is never good policy to snatch at the ball instead of 
picking it up. 

The tenor of this advice is applicable as well to all 
the in-fielders, but the third baseman's position is one 
in which the desirability of thoroughly steady and 
sharp play is especially marked. In handling balls 
which must be fielded elsewhere than to first base, sec- 
ond and home are usually the objective points for the 
third baseman; and it may be laid down as a rule 
particularly applicable to the amateur, that he should 
take very few chances in these throws. Unless the hit 
be a sharp one, and he receive the ball without a 
fumble, there is little likelihood of his getting the ball 



BASE-BALL — FOK THE PLAYER 223 

to second or home in time to intercept a runner. 
When the runner is "forced," so that the catcher or 
the baseman is not obliged to touch him in order 
to put him out, there is a little better chance, and 
under such circumstances the play is of course more 
advisable. 

As illustrating the foolishness of ill-judged attempts 
to catch the man at the home plate, I recall a cham- 
pionship game between Harvard and Yale, in which, 
up to the ninth inning, Yale had led. In fact, Yale 
was then three runs ahead. 

Singularly enough, on the afternoon before this 
game, there had occurred a discussion among members 
of the Yale nine as to the advisability of the practice 
(then common among all college nines) of always field- 
ing to the home plate, when there was but one man 
out and a runner was on third. In order to make a 
fair test of this question on its merits, a runner was 
placed on third and the in-fielders came closer up, as 
they were accustomed to do under such circumstances. 
The pitcher then would toss the ball, and the batsman 
hit it sharply anywhere in the in-field, the runner at 
the same time trying to come home. Out of twenty 
trials the runner was put out but five times — getting 
home safely the other fifteen. 

In spite of this experiment, however, when Harvard 
was at the bat for the last inning, there being one man 
out, a man on second, and one on third, with three 
runs to tie and four to win, the Yale in-fielders came 
further in and tried to throw the man out at the plate 
Three of these attempts and one single hit gave Har- 
vard four runs and the game ; whereas, had the Yale 



224 WALTER GAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

men thrown to first they would almost to a certainty 
have put out the side at the sacrifice of but one run, 
and would have won by two runs. 

It is not a difficult matter to see the reasons why a 
third baseman should seldom attempt to field to the 
plate, unless the ball comes fast and on a clean bound. 
If the hit be a very slow one, and the base-runner 
have anything like the lead he should take, there is no 
chance to run up on the ball and throw it to the plate 
in season. The ball must be fielded to the catcher in 
such a manner as to enable him to touch the runner ; 
and to field the ball thus from third base is no easy 
matter, as it often involves throwing the ball almost 
over the runner's shoulder. Under similar circum- 
stances I have seen Hankinson, in attempting this 
throw, hit the runner squarely between the shoulders; 
and although fortunately the blow did not injure the 
runner in the least, unfortunately it was impossible 
for the catcher to put him out. 

In fielding to first the ball may be thrown quite 
wide, and yet, by leaning out, the first baseman will 
be able to catch it while one foot remains on the base. 
If, however, the first baseman were obliged to touch 
the runner, as the catcher must do, fully one half the 
throws he receives would not be sufficiently accurate 
to enable him to execute the play. Moreover, a runner 
from third has an advantage of several yards over a 
runner to first. If a player wishes to convince himself 
of this fact, let him note the exact positions, under 
these circumstances, of the batsman who starts for first 
base and a good base-runner who is trying to come 
home. At the moment the ball leaves the bat, he will 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEK 



225 



find that while the batsman is just starting, the runner 
from third is nearly half-way home, and besides has a 
" flying start." 

In practising putting the ball on a runner, the third 
baseman should accustom himself to receiving the 
ball from first, second, short, home, and pitcher ; and it 







v 






THIRD BASEMAN INTERCEPTING THE SLIDE OF A RUNNER FROM SECOND. 



is no easy matter to acquire the proper way to receive 
the ball thrown from each of these positions. Any 
man who thinks the same motion will answer for all 
these different cases makes a serious mistake. 

In deciding upon the proper method of receiving the 
ball, the third baseman will find that much depends 
upon the position of the runner. If the runner be 
coming back from home, because the pitcher, having 
caught him leading off too far, has thrown to third, 
the third baseman should step almost into his base 
line as he receives the ball, and, swinging his right 
hand low, should bring the ball against the runner. 



15 



226 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

The pitcher, if he understands the play, will throw into 
the line rather than at the base. If the runner be 
coming from second, and the first baseman be fielding 
the ball over, there is little likelihood of the throw 
being sufficiently accurate to allow the play in the 
method just described, and the baseman must there- 
fore be prepared to use either hand, according to the 
position of the runner at the moment when the ball is 
received. Suppose, for instance, that the ball be 
thrown five or six feet toward second: the baseman 
can tell by sight or hearing just where the runner is, 
and if the runner has not reached him he should turn 
to the left with the ball in his left hand. If, however, 
the runner is just passing him, he should swing to the 
right with the ball in the right hand. In either case, 
he need not swing so low as he does when the ball is 
thrown nearer the base. In the latter case he should 
always almost sweep the ground in his swing, as the 
runner is sure to slide. Of course, catching the ball on 
the man is the perfect method ; but unfortunately the 
ball so seldom comes to the proper point that these 
other methods of touching the runner must be 
practised faithfully. 

In the matter of one player assisting another, the 
third baseman is more often to be "backed up" than 
be called upon to perform that office for some one else. 

The short-stop needs the same coaching as the third 
baseman, in the way of urging him to jump in front of 
the ball, and to start quickly. The combination method 
of play, which was mentioned in a previous paragraph 
as an excellent one to bring out all the possible ad- 
vantages of playing the two positions of short-stop 
and third base, requires plenty of practice. Particu- 



BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB 



227 



larly must the two players thoroughly understand each 
other. A very good way to begin practice upon this 
method is to station the third baseman where he can, 
by an effort, just cover the ground to his base, and 
to tell him to "take everything he can get, out in the 








PLATING A TRICK ON THE BASE-RUNNER. THE BALL IS PURPOSELY THROWN BY 
THE CATCHER OVER THE THIRD BASEMAN'S HEAD INTO THE SHORT-STOP'S HANDS. 



diamond." The short-stop is then placed well back 
of the base line, as far as he can be and yet be sure 
of throwing to first in time to catch the ordinary run- 
ner on a hard hit. He must be instructed to "come in 
on" the ball as soon as it is hit and he knows its 
direction. 

Irwin was one of the first of the professionals to 
develop this "deep field" play by a short-stop, and 
I remember how very strange it appeared to the col- 
legians to see this little fellow station himself almost 
half-way out to left field; but before the game was 



228 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

ended be had shown himself fully able to cover all 
the space he had taken. 

A short-stop has to make one peculiar class of plays 
in which he should endeavor to become thoroughly 
expert, and that is, taking short flies that go just out- 
side the in-field but are too low for the out-fielders to 
get under. There are also occasional flies near the 
foul line, ten or a dozen yards behind third base, which 




FIRST BASEMAN TAKING A LOW THROW BY REACHING FORWARD. 

an agile short-stop may take. No player has ever 
been more expert in this line of play than John Ward, 
so well known for his advancement of the game. 
Many a short fly that the scorers were just putting 
down as a base-hit has found a resting-place in his 
outstretched hands, simply because he has made a 
practice of starting instantly, and of never believing 
any fly too far away for him to get. 

"Backing up" is a special feature of the short- 
stop's duties. Any ball fielded from the other side 
of the diamond to the third or second baseman should 
find the short-stop behind the man who is to take 
it. This player should be particularly on the alert to 
back up the third baseman, when the ball is thrown 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEK 



229 



to that point by the catcher, in order to put out an 
adventurous runner. This precaution is necessary, 
because any wild throw of the catcher's which the 
baseman fails to get will surely admit of the run- 
ner's going home unless the short- stop secures the ball. 
Sometimes a very good trick is played upon the run- 
ner in this way: The short-stop and third baseman 
are both advised by a preconcerted signal from the 
catcher that he will throw to third; and then the short- 
stop springs out behind the baseman, and the catcher 
sends the ball, but apparently throws it too high — in 
fact, throws the ball over the head of the baseman to the 
short-stop, and thus deceives the runner into the belief 
that he can run home, which, if the short-stop makes 
an ordinarily accurate throw, is of course impossible. 

A short-stop must also always back up third when 
any of the out-fielders are throw- 
ing to that point. He should 
likewise make himself useful 
whenever a man is caught be- 
tween bases and is being "run 
down." 

It is occasionally the duty 
of this player to cover second 
base when a left-handed batter 
is at the plate and a runner is 
on first. This is in order that 
the second baseman may be 
left freer to run after balls to- 
ward right field than he would be if obliged to come 
back to the second base when the ball is thrown there. 
In the execution of this play, the short-stop stands a 
few yards nearer second, and runs to that base if 




FIRST BASEMAN TAKING A LOW 
THROW ON THE LONG BOUND. 



230 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

the ball be thrown. In attempting to intercept a run- 
ner at the home plate, the same remarks apply to the 
short-stop as to the third baseman, except that, beiog 
away from the base line, he is not obliged to throw 
over or by the runner, and so has a slightly better 
opportunity. This advantage, however, is partially 
compensated for by the greater distance which the 
ball has to travel. If the short-stop tries to throw to 
the home plate to intercept a runner, he should come 
up sharply on the ball, taking it at the earliest pos- 
sible bound, and throwing hard. Should he fumble 
the ball, let him instantly give up his purpose of 
throwing to the plate, and field to first instead, as the 
chance of catching that runner is the better. 

The second baseman has the shortest distances to 
throw of any of the in -fielders; but, on that very 
account, he should be able to cover more ground 
than any of the rest. He has more time after a hit, 
for the distance from the batsman to the position 
of the second baseman is the greatest. The player 
in this position should be impressed with these advan- 
tages in order that he may develop great activity in 
the way of covering ground. In no position is a de- 
sire to make one's self useful so important ; for a sleepy 
short-stop or third baseman has so many balls batted 
directly at him that he must "play ball" whether in- 
clined to be active or not; whereas a second baseman 
may stand like a post and escape being hit with the 
ball through the entire nine innings. A man who 
means to play second for all it is worth, must deter- 
mine that no ball shall go by him between the pitcher 
and first baseman. It will, however, sometimes hap- 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYEB 



231 




232 WALTER GAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

pen that a ball will be driven past the pitcher and 
nearly over the second base. The player at the 
latter point may reach it, but cannot handle it in 
time to put out the runner. This particular hit he 
should regard as his limit, and anything inside of that 
he should consider it his bounden duty to take and 
field to first in time. Many amateur second basemen, 
otherwise excellent, take as their limit a much nar- 
rower field, and hence, while they do not make many 
errors, their opponents enjoy many little-deserved 
"safe" hits. 

It is well for the second baseman occasionally to 
practise underhand throwing to first, as it often hap- 
pens in a game that he runs so far over toward first 
to receive the ball that he has not time to straighten 
up and throw the ball overhand, and a quick un- 
derhand throw will get the ball into the first base- 
man's hands in time. Throwing of every conceivable 
fashion is on this account permissible for a second 
baseman, and I have seen one of the best professional 
players almost scoop the ball, with one motion of his 
hand, from the ground into the first baseman's hands. 

When a runner is coming down from first, the 
second baseman in covering his own base should not 
be so eager to start over to the bag as to put it out of 
the question for him to handle a ball batted in his im- 
mediate vicinity ; for he should bear it in mind that he 
cannot be of any service standing on the second base 
if the ball is going along the ground toward right field. 
When the runner from first is fairly off, and the 
catcher is throwing the ball to second, the baseman 
should endeavor to take up such a position in receiv- 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEK 233 

ing the throw as to be just in front of the base line 
and a little toward first. Here he must follow the 
same instructions relative to touching the runner as 
those given the third baseman. He must swing low 
and quickly, taking every advantage of the position of 
the runner and making the attempt cleanly and in but 
one motion. There is very little use in running after 
a man and " jabbing " at him with the ball; for even if 
the runner were touched the first time, the umpire 
naturally judges from the baseman's repeated efforts 
that he must have failed in the first attempt, and so 
declares the runner " safe." 

It is sometimes possible for a good combination of 
catcher, pitcher, and second baseman to put out a run- 
ner who takes a long lead from second toward third 
when the ball is pitched, or who comes back slowly or 
carelessly. Burdock on second used to do this very 
cleverly. He had a signal (consisting of extending his 
left arm out in a straight line from his body, an action 
not noticeable to the runner, but very evident to the 
catcher) by which he instructed the catcher to perform 
the play on the next ball pitched. The method was as 
follows : The catcher, instantly upon receiving the ball, 
returned it with as swift a throw as the pitcher could 
well handle, and he in turn swung around and sent the 
ball at second just a little toward third. Burdock, who 
had started as soon as the catcher had the ball, would 
have reached this spot in the line, and it was a very 
lively undertaking for any runner who was not expect- 
ing the trick to get back to the bag in time. This 
play, as executed by these men, had little in common 
with the ordinary attempt of amateurs to execute it — 



234 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

where there is enough shouting and calling to betray 
the plan long before the ball comes. It must, of course, 
be done in perfect silence, and the runner should have 
no warning until the ball comes flying back. 

The second baseman occasionally has an opportu- 
nity of backing up first base, although the pitcher is 
able to do a large share of this work. 

The first baseman's most regular work is catching 
thrown balls ; but he has other duties by no means un- 
important, chief among which is handling ground-hits. 
Like the third baseman, he stands as far from his 
base as he can and yet be able to stop any ball sent 
between him and the bag. Unlike the third baseman, 
however, he cannot be allowed to take everything he 
can get in the in-field ; for, as a rule, he must not go 
farther from his base than to a point from which he 
can return to the bag in time to intercept the runner. 
Occasionally a ball is batted in such a manner that the 
play can be made to greater advantage by the pitcher's 
covering the base, while the baseman himself gets 
the ball and throws it to the pitcher. This is suffi- 
ciently unusual not to be counted on as a regular 
play, and a first baseman should attempt it only at 
a call from the pitcher. His best general rule is to 
"cover the base." In catching balls thrown to him, 
he should make a point of acquiring the habit of 
stepping from the base with either foot, keeping the 
other always on the bag. Many amateurs fall into the 
trick of always keeping the same foot on the base and 
twisting themselves about in correspondingly awkward 
ways. More than this, the man who plays first should 
never make the mistake of " putting the cart before 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYEE 235 

the horse," by keeping his foot on the bag when to do 
so he must miss the ball. This is the commonest fault 
of all first basemen. I remember hearing Joe Start, 
one of the old pioneer base-ball players, who has stood 
on first base until his hair is white, say contemptuously 
of many a man playing first base, " Humph ! — tied to 
the bag ! " It is the duty of the first baseman to catch 
or stop the ball any ivay. If he can do it with his foot 
on the base, well and good; if he cannot, then he 
must leave the base for the purpose. A moment's con- 
sideration of the length of time a first baseman has in 
which to move, while the ball is traversing the entire 
distance from third, or short, to his base, will give one 
some idea of how wild any throw (except a high one) 
must be to be out of his reach, provided he dare to 
leave the base when necessary. 

In the handling of a low throw, there is the greatest 
opportunity for the exercise of judgment. If a first 
baseman will keep one foot upon the bag and step 
forward with the other, bending the knee, he will see 
how far he can reach out with his hands into the dia- 
mond. Then if he steps backward, and notes how far be- 
hind the base he can take the ball, he will have an idea 
of the field of choice he has on a low throw. He should 
therefore always endeavor to take a low throw either 
on the " pick up " or the " long bound," and avoid that 
most disagreeable point of a ball's progress known as a 
" short bound." The best of players cannot be sure of 
taking a short bound, — there is always an element of 
luck in it, — while taking a pick-up, or a long bound, is 
far more a question of skill. 

Another thing to be remembered by the first base- 



236 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

man in his practice, as well as in games, is to help the 
thrower. For example, when the ball and the rnnner 
seem about to reach the base at the same time, the 
baseman, by leaning forward into the diamond and 
toward the thrower, can gain just that almost inappre- 
ciable fraction of time that will put the runner out. 

The "tied to the bag" fault is apparent sometimes 
in the player who seems unable to take a high ball. 
His trouble is usually found to lie in the fact that, 
while he does reach up after the ball, he feels that his 
foot must not leave the bag. If the ball be going too 
high to be reached in that way, he must jump for it. 
A good illustration of how a first baseman should 
take a high ball, is shown in an instantaneous photo- 
graph of McBride, a well-known first baseman of Yale. 
The player should jump so as to alight on the bag; for, 
if in time, he will put out the man : but he must sacri- 
fice everything to stopping the ball. In touching the 
runner with a ball thrown from the pitcher, the first 
baseman, likewise, should follow the instructions 
given the third baseman. All players, however, are 
far more proficient — owing to greater practice — in 
sliding back to first than to third. A first baseman 
must therefore be even quicker in putting the ball on 
the man. 

THE BATTERY 

More than the professional nine, the amateur nine 
is dependent for its success upon the work of the bat- 
tery. For this reason it is that so much time and 
attention are devoted to the men composing the bat- 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEE 237 

tery, throughout the season as well as in preliminary 
training. The greatest cause of poor work by pitcher 
and catcher at the outset may be said to be lame arms. 
A pitcher whose arm is lame will go on exhausting 
himself, punishing the catcher, and breaking down the 
nerve of his nine from inning to inning, until the game 
is irretrievably lost. A catcher with a lame arm soon 
betrays his inability to throw to the bases ; and the op- 
ponents steal second and then third, until his own nine 
feel that if a runner reaches first he has merely to trot 
around to third. Demoralization always follows, and 
the nine " goes to pieces." 

The first problem to be studied, then, is how to 
avoid a lame arm ; and the second, how to cure it if the 
misfortune comes. A lame arm is usually acquired 
early in the season ; for, when the muscles are thor- 
oughly trained and kept in good condition, lameness 
seldom results from any cause except some foolish 
overwork (such, for instance, as pitching several hard 
games a week for two or three weeks). This overwork 
is not the temptation to an amateur player that it is 
to the professional ; but occasionally a combination of 
circumstances makes an unusual demand upon an am- 
ateur, and he is then even more likely than the profes- 
sional to forget that his arm is not a machine. On this 
account it is well to state that two games a week 
should be the limit for the amateur pitcher. In fact, 
even that allowance, continued steadily, is very likely 
to weaken his pitching. 

The preparatory training for the pitcher should be 
even more gradual than that for the other players. He 
should begin in the winter to take up all the exercises 



238 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOETS 

suggested for increasing the suppleness and strength 
of the muscles of the arm and shoulder, particularly 
the latter. He should use the light dumb-bells, going 
through as great a variety of motions as the most 
thorough system provides. He should vary the bells 
by exercises with the Indian clubs. After a week of 
this, he ought to do some rope-climbing and swinging 
on the flying-rings, if he enjoys the advantages of a 
well-equipped gymnasium. Every day he should throw 
a little, both overhand and underhand, but without 
attempting anything like speed; and he should avoid 
curves until he has had two weeks or more of this 
general exercise. 

He may then begin upon the curves with a degree of 
safety — taking preferably the in-curves first, for a day 
or two, and later the out-curves. If a comrade can go 
through the work with him, nothing could be better , 
for they may be mutually useful, not only in keeping 
up the interest, but also by acting as massage operators 
upon each other. The arm and shoulder should be 
thoroughly rubbed and kneaded every day, and if 
there be any suspicion of lameness a little alcohol or 
cider-brandy may be rubbed in. The pitcher should 
not be called upon to pitch for any cage-batting except 
at his own desire, and even then he should not be 
allowed to do very much of it. 

Having made a good beginning, and having with no 
apparent difficulty reached a point where he can get 
his curves and speed without any feeling of exhaustion 
or heaviness in the arm or shoulder, the next point of 
danger comes with the first outdoor practice. For this 
reason, it is an excellent plan for the pitcher to go into 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 239 

the open air for a little preliminary work some days 
before the rest of the nine are put into the field. In 
doing this he must remember that he should be almost 
as careful again as he was while getting broken in for 
the winter work. He should do no hard pitching for 
several days, and should have his arm and shoulder 
well rubbed with alcohol after his exercise. He should 
always wear a flannel sleeve covering the arm and 
shoulder. Until the weather is warm and settled, the 
pitcher should avoid hard pitching, or he will bitterly 
repent it. To cure a lame arm is a difficult task, but 
of course the treatment will vary with the nature and 
extent of the injury. Recovery is a question of rest 
and the encouragement of union by means of electri- 
city, friction, or other gentle stimulus to the circula- 
tion through the part. As a rule, it is wise to seek at 
once a physician or surgeon. 

Before entering upon a description of the work of 
the experienced pitcher after he is once started for the 
season, it is only fair to tell some of the younger 
aspirants for pitcher's honors something of the meth- 
ods of acquiring the various curves and "shoots." 
There have been almost numberless articles written 
describing the theory of curving a ball. These are 
more interesting to theorists than to ball-players. The 
fact itself remains that a base-ball may be made to 
describe more or less of a curve while traversing the 
distance between the pitcher and the batsman; and 
that curve is accomplished by imparting a certain 
twist to the ball as it leaves the pitcher's hand. No 
matter how thoroughly one might explain to a man 
of no experience the way to balance upon a bicycle, 



240 WALTEK CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS 

the first attempt would result invariably in the ma- 
chine and rider losing that balance. So the would-be 
pitcher must remember that no description will enable 
him to curve the ball at his first attempts. In fact, it 
is more discouraging than learning bicycle-riding, be- 
cause there one feels at the very first trial the near 
possibility of success ; whereas it is many a day be- 
fore the novice can impart even a very slight curve to 
the base-ball. Perseverance will surely be rewarded 
eventually, however, in this as in any other practice. 
The easiest curve, and the one to be acquired first, is 
the out-curve. The simplest method is to take the ball 
in the hand between the extended thumb and the first 
and second fingers, the third and little finger being 
closed. The ball rests against the middle joint of the 
third finger, but is firmly clasped by the first two and 
the thumb. If the arm be then extended horizontally 
from the shoulder, with the palm of the hand up, it will 
be seen that if the ball were spun like a top by the two 
fingers and thumb it would turn in the way indicated 
by the arrow in the diagram. This is the way it must 
twist to accomplish the out-curve. If this idea be 
borne in mind, and the ball be thus thrown, the 
thrower will immediately discover that the simpler 
way to impart this twist is not the spinning motion, 
but rather a snap as the ball is leaving the fingers, per- 
formed almost entirely without the aid of the thumb. 
The sensation is that of throwing the ball hard, but 
dragging it back with the ends and sides of the fingers 
just as it leaves the hand. In practising to acquire 
this curve, it is best to swing the arm not straight out, 
but bent at the elbow, with the ball just a little higher 
than the shoulder. When the curve is once acquired, 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 



241 




DIAGRAM OF PITCHER'S CURVES. 



Fig. 1 shows the position of the ball and pitcher's fingers as seen 
when looking directly at the back of the hand, whether the pitcher is to 
deliver an out- orin-enrve. For an in-curve, the pitcher lets the ball go 
from his hand so that it last touches the inside of the second finger, caus- 
ing the ball to rotate in the direction indicated by the arrow ; and Fig. 3 
shows the position of the arm as it turns just previous to letting the ball 
go for this curve. 

Fig. 2 shows the position of the ball and fingers as seen by one looking 
at the side of the hand, instead of at the back ; and is the same, when the 
first motion of the arm begins, whether the pitcher is to deliver an " out" 
or an "in." If an out-curve be delivered, the pitcher will allow the ball 
to pass out of his hand so that it last touches that side of the forefinger 
nearest the thumb ; thus causing the ball to rotate in the direction 
indicated by the arrow in Fig. 2. 

Fig. 4 shows the position of the arm just previous to letting the ball go 
when an out-curve is delivered. 

Fig. 5 shows the beginning of the motion ; and as the arm comes for- 
ward, if an out-curve be delivered the hand turns with the motion of 
turning a screw ; while if an in-curve is delivered the motion is reversed, 
or is as the hand would turn in extracting a screw. 

16 



242 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

it is simple enough to impart it to the ball, whether 
the arm is swinging high or low, straight or bent. 
None but the out-curve should be attempted until the 
pitcher finds himself able to make the ball take a quite 
perceptible bend. 

The in-curve is the reverse of the out, and never can 
be made so marked. The ball is held as for the out- 
curve, but is made to go out between the second and 
third fingers. Both these curves can be accomplished 
by the use of the whole hand instead of the two fin- 
gers, but it is easier to learn to perform them in the 
way described. The "rise" and "drop" are also pos- 
sible, and are effected by imparting to the ball the 
twists illustrated in the diagrams, page 241. These 
two curves can be accomplished very readily, after the 
out and in are acquired, by simply changing the posi- 
tion of the hand, so that the same twist as that which 
makes the ball curve out will make it curve up ; while 
the twist which makes it curve in will make it drop. 
For instance, the hand held as in Fig. 4 will effect an 
out-curve, and when turned a little with the same twist 
will effect an up-curve or rise. The drop is sometimes 
also accomplished by allowing the ball to roll over the 
end of the fingers, this giving it the tendency to shoot 
down. The arm should be drawn up rather sharply as 
the ball goes over the tips of the fingers. 

All these curves are susceptible of various combina- 
tions one with another, so that pitchers make use 
of the out-drop and the in-rise, the in-drop and the 
out-rise. Any combination to pitch what many writers 
have called a " snake ball " — that is, one which 
will have a change of curve, in effect, opposite to 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 243 

that with which it started — exists in the imagination 
only, unless the ball be blown out of its course by the 
wind. The effect of a strong wind upon the ball is 
very marked, and when it is toward the pitcher and 
against the ball, it aids materially in increasing the 
tendency to curve. When with the ball, it renders the 
curve less easy to produce and less marked. A left- 
handed pitcher is able to make much more of what to 
a right-handed batsman is an in-curve, for to such a 
pitcher it is the easiest one to produce ; while its oppo- 
site, or the out-curve to a right-handed batsman, is 
correspondingly weak. 

The training of the catcher has in it less variety, 
and is in consequence far more tedious than that of the 
pitcher. The work of strengthening the muscles of 
the shoulder and arm is the same as that described for 
the pitcher ; but in the throwing practice the catcher 
should devote his attention to the short-arm throw. 
He should begin at the short distance of perhaps fifty 
feet, and increase that distance very gradually. In 
fact, he ought, even when he can readily throw the full 
distance from home to second with comparative ease, 
to do most of his throwing at two thirds that distance. 
After the nine have begun to work in the field, it is not 
advisable for the catcher to throw to second anything 
like the number of times the majority of amateurs 
attempt daily. Only after the nine have been out of 
doors for two or three weeks is so much of the full-dis- 
tance throwing safe for any catcher who wishes to 
have his arm in good condition. 

The position of the feet in throwing is all-important. 
If he be a strong man of moderate weight, he can, and 



2U WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

should, throw without changing the position of his 
feet. To this object his gymnasium practice should be 
devoted. Standing steadily upon his feet in the exact 
position assumed at the moment of catching' the ball, 
he should with a slight swing at the hips be able to 
send the ball down. Throwing in a cage with a low 
ceiling is the best thing possible for him, as it forces 
him to throw hard and on a line. A point of catcher's 
practice which does not enter into the work of the 
pitcher is that of toughening the hands. Rowing on the 
machines, climbing the rope, swinging on the flying- 
rings, and hand-ball, if there be any court for that ex- 
cellent game, will all tend toward this end. He should 
consider, however, that it is not merely toughening the 
skin of the hands that is desirable, but also hardening 
the flesh so that it is not easily bruised. For this rea- 
son he should " pass ball " without gloves regularly 
every day. At the outset he should receive no swift 
balls, and should stop at the first feeling of anything 
beyond a moderate tingling of the palms. His hands 
should receive their full preparatory hardening before 
he goes out into the field, for ordinary carefulness de- 
mands that he should do no catching behind the bat 
after the season commences except wdth hands thor- 
oughly protected by well-padded gloves. What is com- 
monly called a " stone bruise " is one of the tenderest 
and most lasting mementos of carelessness in this re- 
spect. In his gymnasium practice he should wear the 
mask. This seems to most catchers a useless bore; 
but the captain or coach should insist upon it, and the 
mask should become almost a part of the catcher him- 
self. All his throwing and passing should be performed 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYER 245 

with his eyes behind its wires, in order that, from be- 
coming thoroughly accustomed to it, it may add no 
inconvenience to his work. The breastplate need not 
be so rigorously insisted upon, but even this should be 
worn frequently. The right-hand glove must always 
be worn when practising throwing, in order that this 
also shall offer no unusual difficulty in the later 
work. Many a catcher may think that it looks silly to 
stand up with a mask and glove on to throw at a 
mark; but he will appreciate the value of such prac- 
tice when he stands accoutred on the field behind the 
batsman and with a runner on first. 

As often as it is convenient, the catcher, particularly 
if a novice, should have some one swing the bat before 
him while he is "passing ball" in the gymnasium. 
By the time he gets out of doors, he should be thor- 
oughly accustomed to the close proximity of the bats- 
man and the swing of the bat, so that it does not 
disconcert him in the least or affect his holding the 
ball. It is no very difficult achievement for a novice 
to prepare for this part of the catcher's duties. He 
should begin by having a comrade swing the bat quite 
far from the actual course of the ball, say a foot above 
or below it, while the pitcher tosses the ball at slow 
speed. After several days more, the pitcher should 
slightly accelerate his delivery, and the batsman swing 
the bat within four or five inches of the ball. After a 
few days of this latter practice, the novice will find 
that he does not flinch at all, and from that time on 
all that he needs is daily practice behind the bat to 
become perfectly at home so far as catching the ball is 
concerned. 



246 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

When the battery have left the gymnasium and are 
fairly settled down to regular field practice, they re- 
quire the strictest supervision to prevent them from 
doing foolish things. For instance, all the nine have 
the strongest fancy for batting the delivery of the 
regular pitcher. They like the practice, and know 
that it is good for their batting. The pitcher, like- 
wise, is prone to a vanity that urges him on to ex- 
treme effort when pitching to members of his own 
nine; and while such effort to a moderate degree is 
an excellent thing for him, it will be found that, left 
to himself, he will very likely enter into a duel with 
the batsman and pitch himself into exhaustion or a 
lame arm before the batsman will tire of the sport. He 
therefore should be permitted to pitch to one or, per- 
haps, two batsmen daily, just enough to give him a 
little interest; while the rest of his pitching practice 
should be very limited, and should have no element in 
it that would tempt him to pitch a single ball after his 
arm is tired. When the season is at its height, the 
games themselves will give him enough to do without 
any pitching to his own men — unless he may occa- 
sionally desire to try the effect of some new delivery 
upon the batsman. In that case he should be free to 
select his own victims as he may require them. The 
pitcher should also practice throwing to bases, paying 
particular attention to holding a runner close upon 
first base. He should aim to acquire such precision 
in this as habitually to throw four out of five balls 
successively in practically the same spot — namely, at 
about the height of the baseman's knee and just a 
little toward second. The same relative place is a good 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 247 

one for throwing to the other bases, for the purpose to 
be borne in mind is not to throw at the base, but to 
cut off the runner. 

The catcher needs little watching, but the captain or 
coach must never allow him to stand before any swift 
pitching if his hands are sore. Sometimes a plucky 
fellow will not care to tell everybody that his hands are 
sore, and it therefore must be the captain's business to 
know all about this. The pitcher should tell the cap- 
tain; for it is the pitcher who will notice the unavoid- 
able wince that is the proof of a catcher's sore hand. 
The catcher should do a moderate amount of throwing 
to all the bases every day, and he ought also to prac- 
tise receiving the ball from both in-fielders and out- 
fielders at the home plate, in order that he may be 
able to put the ball on a runner coming in from third. 
For general work, it is not a bad plan to have both 
catcher and pitcher bat to the in-fielders, as it gives 
them relaxation as well as exercise good for all-around 
development. 

Their work with one another is of the most vital 
interest to the success of the nine, for in it lies the 
best part of the strength of the battery. If two men 
do not get on well together, it is an almost hopeless 
task to make of them a successful battery. In the 
matter of signals, as almost every one nowadays un- 
derstands, they must be thoroughly accustomed to 
each other. These signals indicate what kind of ball 
is to be pitched, and sometimes the catcher gives them, 
sometimes the pitcher. If the catcher be a good judge 
of batsmen, and the pitcher be of a disposition inclin- 
ing him to depend upon some one else, it is best that 



248 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

the catcher give the signals. It is also less likely to 
attract the attention of the coaches or batsmen, as the 
catcher can better conceal a gesture. The pitcher may, 
however, give them if it seems necessary. Signal sys- 
tems of great ingenuity may be concocted, but as a 
rule the simpler they are, without too great risk of 
discovery, the better, as neither player should have 
his mind distracted from his work any more than is 
necessary by being obliged to think twice about a sig- 
nal. A movement of the thumb or a finger, as the 
catcher stands with his hands on his knees prepara- 
tory to receiving the ball, is the most common; and if 
the catcher keep his hands on the inner sides of the 
legs in giving this signal, it is difficult for the coach to 
catch it. The height at which he holds his hands may 
indicate the kind of delivery he wants ; a movement 
of the head, the position of the feet — all may be made 
useful in this way. 

I remember one college catcher who gave the signals 
for an out-curve or an in-curve in a peculiar manner, 
and one which was never suspected by any one not in 
the secret. The signal consisted in the relative posi- 
tion to his eyes of a certain wire in the mask. If he 
looked over this wire, he wanted an in-curve; if under 
it, an out-curve. The change in the position of his 
head was almost imperceptible, but it was unmistakable 
to the pitcher who understood its significance. Ward 
once told a very good story apropos of signaling. A 
certain pitcher was giving the signals, and the man 
who was catching was comparatively a stranger to his 
delivery. It appears that the signals which the pitcher 
was giving were a smile and a frown ; and after a time 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 



249 



the first baseman, who had been in the habit of catch- 
ing for the same pitcher, began to expostulate with the 
new catcher for his wretched work. 

"Why," replied the poor fellow, "the sun is in that 




CATCHER SIGNALING TO PITCHER BY RELATIVE POSITION OF THE 
MA8K AND HIS EYES. 



pitcher's eyes, and he squints his face up so that I 
can't tell, for the life of me, whether he 's grinning or 
scowling ! " 

It is customary for the one of the pair who is not 
giving the signals to be perfectly free to shake his 
head if he does not approve of any particular delivery 
which has been signaled, and his comrade then gives 
the sign for a different curve. In a strong battery the 



250 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

man who is a good judge can in this way often be of 
great assistance to the other. 

In his pitching to batsmen, the pitcher should bear 
in mind that it is by no means possible to strike out 
all, or even a moderate proportion, of the men who 
face him; whereas it is possible to prevent the ma- 
jority from hitting the ball just where they wish. The 
first principle to keep before him, then, is to make the 
batsmen hit the ball either close up on the handle or 
out at the end of the bat. In either case the hit will 
probably be one which may be easily fielded so as to 
result in putting out the batsman. By the judicious 
use of the rise or drop, also, the pitcher may cause the 
batsman to hit flies or grounders, according to the de- 
livery. If his out-field be exceptionally good, it is 
often good policy to make the batsman knock a fly. 
Again, a weakness in the out-field accompanied by 
unusual strength in the in-field may indicate that he 
should endeavor to make the batsman keep the ball 
on the ground. There are, correspondingly, occasions 
when, with men on the bases and less than two out, a 
pitcher can greatly relieve the feelings of his nine by 
striking out one or two men; and it is upon such an 
occasion that he should make an especial effort to ac- 
complish this. All these things he should consider in 
practice as well as in games, and train himself accord- 
ingly. He should also think of his catcher ; and, in a 
game, remember that he is giving the man behind the 
bat a deal more work to do if he continually labors to 
strike out the men than if he judiciously controls their 
hitting so that the rest of the nine share in the labor. 
When there is a man on first who is known to be a 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYEE 



251 




252 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

good and daring base-stealer, it is also good policy to 
refrain from pitching the ball in such a manner as to 
give the catcher a poor opportunity for his throw, as, 
for instance, sending an in-shoot very close to the bats- 
man, or a slow out-curve, which will give the runner a 
long lead on the ball. It is the pitcher's business to 
keep the base-runner as close to the base as possible, 
and to have his delivery of the ball to the batsman 
accompanied by as little preliminary step and swing as 
is consistent with good work, because in that way the 
runner cannot get very far toward second before the 
catcher receives the ball. The best of catchers can- 
not throw out even a moderately fast runner unless 
the pitcher assists in this way. 

The catcher, on his part, must return the kindnesses 
of the pitcher by like consideration. He must begin 
by a resolution to try for everything, and to consider 
no ball beyond his reach, no matter how wild. If he 
cannot catch it, he may by an effort at least stop it; and 
nothing is so encouraging to the pitcher as to see that 
his catcher will try for even the wildest pitch. It is 
the fashion of some amateur catchers, if there has been 
a mistake in the signal, or a wild pitch, to stand a mo- 
ment to cast a reproachful look at the pitcher before 
starting after the ball. This is, of course, absurd. It 
never does any good ; it usually disgusts the pitcher 
and the rest of the nine, and allows the runner to take 
two bases instead of one. No matter what has hap- 
pened, it is the catcher's business to get the hall as 
quickly as possible, and make any necessary explana- 
tion later. The catcher should also be very willing in 
the matter of trying for foul flies. It makes glad the 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYER 



253 



heart of the pitcher to see a batsman go out on a fonl 
fly, and the catcher should be mindful of this. 

One very difficult ball for most catchers to handle is 
a high, swift rise which passes the batsman's face; and 
as it is, in the hands of a pitcher who uses it well, a 




CATCHER RUNNING FOR A "FOUL FLY." 



very effective ball, the catcher should devote plenty of 
practice to it, until he is absolutely sure of holding it. 
It will sometimes go a little higher than the pitcher in- 
tends, and, unless the catcher gives him good support, 
the pitcher becomes afraid to use it, and thus loses a 
strong feature of his delivery. 

The catcher, even though he be an excellent thrower, 
should not fall into the error of throwing too fre- 
quently to first and third. An occasional throw, when 
there is a chance of catching a too venturesome run- 



254 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

ner, is good policy; but simply to return the ball to the 
pitcher by way of first or third is inviting the accident 
of a mi splay which will give a runner a base and per- 
haps a run. Throwing to second has been dwelt upon 
already at considerable length ; but one thing may be 
added, and that is, that a catcher will find it produc- 
tive of the greatest improvement to his work in this 
respect if he will make a point of catching every ball, 
no matter whether there be a runner on first or not, 
exactly as if he must throw it to second. He will be 
astonished at the marked increase in quickness that 
comes from making this a habit. One word more for 
the catcher, and that in regard to returning the ball to 
the pitcher. Bearing in mind that the pitcher has a 
long task before him, the catcher should return the 
ball to him as accurately as possible; never falling into 
the slipshod habit of sending it back carelessly, so that 
the poor pitcher is kept dancing hither and yon to 
catch these returns. The ball should be so returned by 
the catcher as to go on a clean first bound almost into 
his very hands. 



OUT-FTELDERS 

The importance of a strong out-field can hardly be 
overestimated. Nine out of every ten close games are 
won by the ability of the out-fielders to cover ground. 
When a grounder is batted to an in-fielder and he 
makes an error, it usually results that all runners who 
are on the bases advance each one base. But when 
there are men on first, second, and third, and a bats- 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYEE 255 

man drives a hard-line hit which the right-fielder mis- 
judges and allows to go over his head, it results in 
three runs, and is likely to decide the game. No 
amount of time and labor should be grudged, there- 
fore, in making these men strong and capable, for the 
outlay will be returned with interest in every close 
game the nine may play. 

The out-fielders can be instructed generally as to the 
principles of their positions, but individual coaching is 
the only thing that will make them keep up to the 
mark. In the first place, all fielders are likely to fall 
into the habit of starting slowly, not moving until they 
see where the ball is coming, or they may become 
careless in their way of handling the ball. For this 
reason each man should receive some systematic 
coaching every day. 

The left-fielder should work in harmony with the 
short-stop in the matter of taking the short flies. 
These two players should arrange beforehand which 
shall take the ball, although the fielder should take it 
if possible. There are two reasons for this : First, be- 
cause the fielder is sure to be facing the diamond, 
while the short-stop may be running with the ball, 
and hence turned away from the in-field. Second, be- 
cause the fielder should, from continual practice, be 
better able to handle quickly and return speedily ordi- 
nary flies. 

The throwing of a left-fielder, beyond the ordinary 
return of the ball to the pitcher by way of short-stop 
or second base, is usually to third or home. He is sel- 
dom required to throw to first ; as, in case of a fly to 
left when a runner is on first, there is usually ample 



256 WALTEK CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

time for this runner to return to his base, after the fly 
is caught, before the ball could reach that base. His 
throwing practice should therefore be directed toward 
third and home — principally to the latter. He should 
keep the ball down, sending it in as nearly as possible 
on a line and just a little to the third-base side of 
home. This last requirement, while it may seem to be 
asking too much of the fielder, is a vital one. If the 
ball come at all on the other side of the plate, there is 
little chance of its catching the runner, and for this 
reason the fielder should be persistently trained to 
throw a trifle to the catcher's left. He must be contin- 
ually cautioned not to make a high throw ; but if he 
cannot put the ball directly into the catcher's hands on 
the fly, he must at least send it so that it reaches the 
catcher on the first bound. It is remarkable how little 
the progress of a low- thrown ball is delayed by its once 
touching the ground ; and it is also noticeable how 
convenient it is for a catcher to handle a ball taken 
on the bound in putting it on a runner. When a 
left-handed man is at the bat, unless he have some 
well-known peculiarity of batting into left field, the 
left-fielder will do well to come in a little nearer. 

The center-fielder occasionally has to be on the same 
terms with the second baseman, in regard to taking a 
fly, as those existing between the short-stop and the 
left-fielder; and about the same rules should govern 
the two players as those laid down for the short-stop 
and the left-fielder. His throwing, also, should be di- 
rected to third and home, but he will have an occa- 
sional opportunity of fielding to first after a fly catch. 
In case he has to throw to first, the pitcher should 



BASE-BALL — FOK THE PLAYEK 



257 




CATCHER THROWING DOWN TO SECOND. 



17 



25S WALTEK CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS 

back up the first baseman, remembering that there is 
no short-stop on that side of the field to perform this 
duty. The center-fielder should always back up second 
quite closely, when the catcher throws down to that 
base, in order to prevent the runner from going on to 
third. All the fielders, after catching a fly, should 
exercise judgment about throwing home in order to 
cut off a runner, whenever there are other runners on 
the bases. 

An excellent illustration of this feature of out-field 
play occurred during a match between the Yale nine 
and the Brooklyn s, in a game played in the city of 
Brooklyn. It was the ninth inning, and the Yale nine 
were one run ahead. The Brooklvns were at the bat, 

*> 7 

with one man out, a man on second, and a man on 
third. The batsman knocked a fly to left. The ball 
was falling near the left-fielder. The man on third, 
knowing that if he made his run it would tie the score, 
stood on third ready to try for the plate whether the 
ball was dropped or caught. The man on second, feel- 
ing that his run would be needed to win, was naturally 
anxious to lead well off toward short, so that if the ball 
were dropped he could surely get in. He counted, of 
course, upon the fielder's attempting, if he caught the 
ball, to intercept the man who was running from third. 
The play happened exactly as this latter runner ex- 
pected. The Yale left-fielder caught the ball and 
drove it home ; but the runner beat it in, and the man 
on second had time to touch his base after the catch 
and still reach third. This tied the score, and Brook- 
lyn eventually won. Had the left-fielder recognized 
his opportunity, he might easily have saved the game 
by fielding to second instead of home. The man start- 



BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYER 259 

ing from second would then have been the third man 
out ; and he would have been put out while the runner 
from third was still several feet from the home-plate, 
so that no run would have been scored. 

The right-fielder has, in addition to his throw to the 
plate, a throw to first. This latter is worth practising 
faithfully, as, if successful, it cuts off what would 
otherwise be a safe hit. The selection, however, of a 
man for this position on the strength of his throwing 
alone, and his ability to execute that one play, cannot 
be too strongly condemned. A man, to perform it suc- 
cessfully, should run up to meet the ball, and, after 
catching it, should throw it without appreciably 
slackening speed. 

I have seen the professional player Kelly make this 
play as it should be made. It was in a game between 
the New Yorks and Chicagos, when he was a member 
of the latter nine. He had been catching, but having 
hurt a finger was replaced by Flint, and went out into 
right field. There were two men out and a man on 
third when one of the New Yorks sent a sharp hit past 
Anson on first base. The ball was whizzing along at 
a sharp pace ; and Kelly, with his hair flying, came 
running in on it as if he were running for the plate. 
A scoop of his hands and a sharp drive of his arm, and 
the ball shot into Anson's hands a fraction of a second 
ahead of the runner, and the side was out. 



BATTING AND BASE-RUNNING 

In turning to the other, the aggressive side of the 
game, the batting, one finds even a greater necessity 



260 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

for education and experience than in the fielding. The 
majority of boys and men become fairly proficient in 
fielding long before they have acquired the ability to 
judge and to bat hard pitching. Occasionally a man 
will be found who, having a naturally good eye, will 
manage to use the bat fairly well as soon as he takes 
it up; but usually even such a man is entirely at the 
mercy of a skilled pitcher, and it is quite unusual to 
find among boys who have played for years more than 
a few good hitters. If, then, a boy will pay attention to 
the principles and try his best, he will, with practice, 
make himself more valuable to a nine than any of his 
comrades; for battiog is more than half the game, 
although many amateur captains are led by the re- 
markably clever fielding of some players to forget this 
fact when making up their nines. A true eye, ability 
to concentrate the muscular force instantly, and plenty 
of courage, are the requisites for a good hitter. The 
batsman must endeavor to swing the bat as nearly on 
a line as possible, and must not "chop" at the ball. 
This proper swing he can readily acquire in his indoor 
practice. He should assume an easy position, slightly 
facing the pitcher, most of his weight resting upon the 
foot nearest the catcher. Just as the ball is delivered 
he should advance the foot nearest the pitcher, and, if 
the ball prove a good one, swing the weight of his body 
into the stroke as he meets the ball with his bat. He 
should not strike with all his might and main, as if he 
were intending to make nothing except a home-run, 
for these violent batsmen are not usually successful 
hitters. It does not require the greatest expenditure 
of muscular force to make a long hit, but the proper 



BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEE 



261 



meeting of the ball and the putting the weight of the 
shoulders into the stroke. The bat should be firmly 
grasped and the arms well straightened and free from 




the sides when the ball is hit. The weight of the body 
should be coming forward, and the trunk should be 
slightly turning upon the hips. Early in the season 
it is best to strive to meet the ball squarely, rather 
than to hit out hard, for this method improves the eye 
and judgment far more rapidly than indiscriminate 
hard hitting. After a good eye has been acquired, the 
batsman may throw more force into his batting with a 



262 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

certainty of meeting the ball fairly. ''Sacrifice" hit- 
ting and "placing" the ball are usually mere matters 
of luck to the average amateur; but a little attention 
to the principles of batting will enable any batsman to 
acquire some measure of control over the direction of 
his hitting. A diagram will illustrate the principles 
quite clearly. If the ball be met in front of the base, 
and the forward foot be drawn away slightly, the ten- 
dency of the ball will be to go on the same side of the 
diamond as that upon which the batsman stands ; while 
if the ball be met behind the base, and the forward foot 
placed a little nearer the base, the tendency of the ball 
will be to go toward the opposite side. 

The ordinary batsman will do well not to sacrifice 
his hitting to any false idea of placing all his hits; for 
he should consider that when there are no men on 
bases, unless he be a thoroughly experienced batsman, 
he will do best to assume his most natural position, and 
not be over-particular as to the exact point toward 
which the ball goes. If a nine will but keep the ball 
going by sharp hits, their opponents will be obliged to 
"play ball" to prevent scoring; and that thought 
should be continually in the mind of the batsman. 

Base-running is hardly less important than batting ; 
for by it the batting is made to yield what really count 
— namely, runs. Any one who follows the scores 
closely sees many cases where a nine make fewer 
base hits and more errors than their opponents, and 
yet win the game. This maybe due to "bunching the 
hits," or to a lucky combination of hits and errors, 
but it is usually accompanied by good base-running. 
Whenever a close game is played, superiority in base- 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYER 



263 



Tunning is usually enough to determine the winner. 
The necessity of quick starting has already been dwelt 
upon, and is the underlying principle of success. Good 
judgment comes next ; for when a man is on a base and 




BASE-RUNNER KEEPING ON TO THIRD. 



the ball is batted, he may take chances up to what 
appears to be the very limit of recklessness, and yet 
seldom make the mistake of being put out. He does 
this through reliance upon his knowledge of what his 
opponents can and will do at each moment. 

A few instances will illustrate this. A runner is on 
first base, and the batsman drives a grounder between 
first and second. The average amateur will run to 
second, and turn to see whether the right-fielder has 



2(M WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

the ball; and if the fielder has stopped the ball the 
runner will not go further. If, however, the runner 
has thoroughly thought out this particular combina- 
tion, he will be ready to take a more daring view of 
the play, and, instead of stopping at second, he will go 
straight on for third. This is not nearly so reckless 
as it appears, provided the runner be fast, and also 
provided that he has made up his mind at the start 
exactly what he will do. It is not an easy throw from 
right field to third, and the right-fielder, if he be play- 
ing at all close in, is very likely to be thinking of 
throwing the runner out at first ; and he will therefore 
lose track entirely of the other runner. Another ex- 
cellent feature of the attempt is that if the right-fielder 
make a wild throw, as he often does in his surprise, 
there is a strong probability of the runner's going on 
to the home-plate. Thus, what was only an oppor- 
tunity to take second may be quite easily turned into 
a run. The majority of amateurs are thoroughly 
familiar with the advisability of coming home from 
second on a base-hit, but when the hit is made very 
few of them are really in the best position to take ad- 
vantage of it. The runner should not try to take too 
great a lead before the pitcher lets the ball go, but 
should move well up as the ball is delivered, so that if 
the hit be made he may have a flying start. He should 
not be just in the base-line, but slightly back of it, so 
that he may not have quite so sharp a turn to make in 
going by third. There are, of course, innumerable 
combinations that may arise, any one of which lends 
some new element for the consideration of the base- 
runner, but there are a few facts which are worth 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYER 265 

remembering. One of these is, that a fielder who has 
made an error by dropping or fumbling a ball is very 
prone to make another error in his throw if the base- 
runner take a daring chance. Yet another point is, 
never to assist a fielder by letting him touch the run- 
ner with the ball when the fielder is seeking to make 
a double play. This is most likely to happen when a 
man is on first and another on second, and the ball is 
batted between third and short, but so that either of 
those fielders stops it. A third point for the consider- 
ation of the runner is, always to force the fielders to 
throw the ball when it can be done without sacrifice 
on his part. This can be accomplished frequently, and 
it always affords an opportunity for an error. The 
same rule applies to tempting a pitcher to throw to 
bases. To lead him to throw frequently will probably 
make his pitching irregular, and this favors the bats- 
man and troubles the catcher. 

One of the most delicate points of base-running is 
taking advantage of fly catches. Naturally, every one 
is thoroughly familiar with the act of running home 
from third on a long fly caught by an out-fielder, for 
this is the simplest case; but the taking a base on a fly 
catch when the apparent odds are not so strongly on 
the side of the runner requires good judgment and a 
cool head. For instance, there is a runner on second 
and a high foul fly is batted over first base almost into 
the crowd of spectators. The first baseman is running 
for the ball and away from the plate, so that his back is 
turned toward third. The clever runner on second 
stands with his toe just touching the bag, and the in- 
stant the first baseman catches the ball he is away like 



266 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



a shot for third. The first baseman, whose mind has 
been thoroughly occupied in catching the ball and not 
falling in the crowd, is startled by the cry, " Look out 
for third!" and he turns hastily and throws; but the 







SHUTTING OFF A KUNNEB. AT THE H03IE-PLATE. 



distance is a long one, his position poor for throwing, 
and the runner's lead enables him to make the base 
before the ball reaches the third baseman. 

There are many emergencies in base-running which 
call for attempts when desperate chances must be 
taken. But every runner should always have the pos- 
sibilities of the situation in his mind at all times; then, 
if it seem wise at the critical moment to take the 
chance, he will be prepared to make the most of it. 



BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYEE 267 

To sum up, the duty of the player, as soou as he be- 
comes a base-runner, is to be one bundle of activity, 
actuated by the keenest desire to take advantage of 
any misjudgment or weakness of his adversaries. 



REMINISCENCES 

When old college ball-players get together, they are 
always g]ad to recall the exciting game or games of 
their college course ; and I have noticed that as a rule 
the players of the present day are by no means disin- 
clined to listen to the tales. Sometimes, I confess, the 
younger players seem rather skeptical of certain inci- 
dents narrated by the veterans; and I must admit that 
the magnifying mist of a few years' distance may per- 
haps lead the older players into exaggeration. How- 
ever, I shall conclude this series with a few of these 
stories. I wish to play over again, " for fun," a few 
incidents from games upon which once seemed to hang 
my stake of happiness for the time. If I exaggerate, 
I hope the boys will forgive me and remember that 
they, too, may some time need a little leeway in telling 
how they won or lost. 

Of all games in which I have played, the most re- 
markable for a sudden revulsion of feeling was one 
between Harvard and Yale, played upon Jarvis Field, 
in June of 1882. It was in the days of the Intercolle- 
giate Association, and Yale had already lost a game 
to Brown and one to Harvard, so that it was the gen- 
eral impression that Yale would lose this game and 
be practically out of the race for the championship. 



268 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

About seven thousand people were gathered about the 
field, and they seemed an unbroken mass of crimson. 
Just a few stray bits of blue showed where an occa- 
sional Yale sympathizer sat. Yale went first to the bat, 
but failed to score. Harvard followed suit. In the 
second inning, a muff by the Harvard first baseman, 
followed by the Yale catcher's making a " two-bagger," 
gave Yale a run. Our happiness was short-lived, 
however, for in the third inning Harvard made two 
runs, followed by another in the fifth. Yale scored 
one in the seventh, but Harvard matched it with one 
in the eighth, so that we began the ninth with Harvard 
four to Yale's two. I think we had not the least hope 
of winning. 

I remember feeling, as we came in for the ninth 
inning, that this defeat would settle our chances of the 
championship, and thinking how the crowd of boys who, 
as I knew, were sitting on the Yale fence awaiting the 
news, would hear it and dwindle away in silence to 
their rooms. Our first man at the bat in the ninth 
inning went out quickly, and our catcher followed 
with the same result. Wilcox, the last man on our 
batting list, came to the bat. Two men out, two runs 
to reach even a tie, and three to win ! I noticed that 
the crowd was leaving the field, and that the young 
rascal who had charge of our bats was putting them 
into the bag. 

"Here, you! stop that!" cried I, for we all were 
superstitious about packing up the bats before the last 
man was out. Besides, I was the next batter, if Wil- 
cox should by any chance reach his base, and I wanted 
my bat. " Two strikes," I heard the umpire call, and 



BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB 



269 




270 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

then at the next ball, to my great joy, " Take your 
base," and \Yilcox trotted away to first. I remember 
thinking how much I would give for a home-run, and 
then there came a good ball just off my shoulder, and I 
hit it with all my power. It went between third and 
short-stop on a swift drive, but bounded high, as I 
afterward learned, for I was meanwhile running at my 
best speed toward first. When I was fifteen feet from 
that base, I saw the baseman give a tremendous jump 
up into the air, and I knew somebody had made an 
overthrow. How I ran then ! — for every base I passed 
I knew was one nearer to tying the score. As I came 
dashing past third base, I saw Wilcox just ahead of 
me, and we crossed the home-plate within three feet of 
each other. Our next batter took his base on poor 
pitching, and stole second; the next followed with a 
base-hit past second, which brought the first runner 
home with the winning run. We then went into the 
field, put three Harvard men out, and won the game : 
when probably half the seven thousand spectators 
were already on their way home with a victory for 
Harvard in their minds. 

I remember a singular case of an undecided match 
which was played at New Haven in 1881, between the 
Xew Yorks and the Yale nine. Brouthers, who has 
since become so remarkable a batsman, was on the 
New Yorks at that time. The case in dispute occurred 
in the sixth inning, but owing to the indecision of the 
umpire no settlement was reached, although the nine 
innings were played, leaving the score a tie, according 
to Yale's claim, or a victory by one run for the profes- 
sionals, if their claim was allowed. Yale was at the 



BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB 



271 



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272 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS 

bat with two men out, and Gardner — a Yale man — 
was running to second when the ball was pitched. 
Walden, our striker, sent a base-hit, upon which he 
tried to take second. The fielder, instead of throwing 
home, as he had at first intended, seeing Gardner well 
along between third and home, fielded the ball to sec- 
ond. The umpire, as soon as he saw the fielder change 
the direction of his throw, forgetting the necessity of 
noting the time when Gardner crossed the plate, ran 
down into the diamond to obtain a nearer view of the 
play at second. Walden was put out, but so far as 
human eye could judge exactly at the moment when 
Gardner crossed the plate. The umpire did not see 
Gardner at all, and was therefore wholly unable to say 
whether the run counted or not. At the end of the 
ninth inning the New Yorks refused to play further, 
claiming the game. It was some slight satisfaction to 
the college nine that just a week later they met the 
New Yorks again and defeated them by a score of 
ten to four. 

One of the most exciting contests in which I ever 
took part was a game with the Providence League nine 
in 1881. Yale had had a remarkably strong nine the 
previous year, and many of the players had remained 
in college, so that our nine was really a veteran organ- 
ization. We, as well as the college in general, had 
been looking forward to this game with more than 
usual interest, as the Providence nine had some old 
scores to settle with us. Yale lost the toss and we 
went to the bat. The first two men were put out 
easily, but Walden came to the rescue with a three- 
base hit. Allen, our next batsman, drove a swift ball 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEE 273 

to short-stop, which gave him a base-hit, and Walden 
scored. Allen started for second on the first ball pitched, 
which the batsman hit safely, and Allen scored. Our 
next man went out at first, leaving Gardner on second, 
but Yale with two runs for a beginning. We took 
the field, and easily retired the first two men on the 
Providence list. Then Farrell came to the bat and 
knocked a two-base hit. Ward stepped up to the plate 
and broke our hearts by sending the ball out into the 
track for a clean home-run, Farrell of course scoring. 
The next man went out to first, and we came in to the 
bat with the score tied. Our first batter sent a high fly 
into the field, but luckily it was not caught. The bat- 
ter then attempted to steal second, but was put out. 
The next striker reached first base safely, but was forced 
out at second by his successor's ground hit. With a 
man on first and two out, we had but little hope of 
scoring ; but Hutchison, our batsman, made a safe hit, 
upon which the runner managed to take third. Hutch- 
ison went to second on the first ball pitched, and 
Lamb brought them both home by a double. The 
third man went out on a fly, but Yale was jubilant 
with the score four to two. 

Providence failed to score in her half. The third 
inning went by without a run ; but in the fourth each 
side scored one, thus keeping Yale still in the lead, five 
to three. In the fifth inning neither side crossed the 
plate, although Providence had two men on the bases 
who were retired by a double play. The sixth inning 
went by, the excitement growing more and more in- 
tense, and both sides playing a perfect game. In the 
seventh Providence again had men on bases, but 

18 



274 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

another double play swept them off. The eighth in- 
ning was another blank, and Yale came to the bat in 
the first half of the ninth, with the score five to three 
in her favor. Two runs seemed like a safe lead, but we 
were anxious to increase it. One man out, two men 
out, and Badger came to the plate. Two balls were 
pitched, and then he hit a beauty into left center for a 
home-run ! How the crowd cheered ! The next man 
went out easily, but six to three was surely safe. 

Providence came in, and I well remember that Joe 
Start and Johnny Ward looked anything but pleased 
at the prospect. After one man went out they seemed 
to find the ball, and Gross, Matthews, and Denny each 
made a hit which, with clever base-running, brought in 
two runs. Denny stole third by a desperate slide, hav- 
ing gone to second on a throw home which failed to 
catch Matthews. One man out, a man on third, one 
run to tie the score ! — the Yale audience hardly dared 
breathe as McClellan came to the bat. He hit a sharp- 
grounder to Hopkins, who was playing first base for 
Yale, and Denny came down the line for home as if 
his life depended upon that run. Hopkins took the 
ball cleanly, and drove it into the plate just as Denny, 
in a cloud of dust, threw himself across it ! " Safe ! " 
said the umpire, and the score was tied. McClellan 
had gone straight on to second, and, as old Joe Start 
took his place at the plate, I know more than one of 
us felt that the victory we had counted on was gone. 
McClellan took all the lead he dared, on every ball, for 
he meant to come home on a hit. The third ball 
pitched suited Start, and he hit it squarely along the 
ground, but straight at Hutchison, who was our short- 



BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYER 275 

stop. McClellan was within three feet of third when 
Hutchison got the ball and sent it over to Hopkins, 
putting out Start. Meanwhile McClellan was taking 
his run home just as fast as he knew how. But Hop- 
kins was too swift for McClellan: the catcher put him 
out, and six to six was the score ! 

I don't know how it was with the spectators, but I 
know that the nine Yale men in uniform were glad the 
inning was over. 

The tenth inning had no long-drawn-out suspense 
about it. Lamb, who was first at the bat for Yale, 
made a single. Walden, the next batsman, immedi- 
atelv followed with a three-base hit ; Gardner took first 
on wild pitching; and the writer had the pleasure of 
sending them both home by batting a single — being, 
later, the third man out on a double play. Then the 
Providence players went out one, two, three, and we 
rode home with our heads in the air. 

Perhaps you think that all the games I remember are 
those in which Yale won. Naturally those are the ones 
I like best to recall, but in the same year that we had 
rejoiced over such a game won from Providence, we 
visited Princeton and learned that some other boys 
could play ball too. The game was not of particular 
interest until the fourth inning, when Yale by a home- 
run of Hutchison's had just left the score six to one in 
her favor. Princeton came in to the bat and set about 
overcoming this long lead. Their first man took first 
base on balls, stole second on a passed ball, third on a 
fielder's error, and came home as Schenck, a Prince- 
ton batsman, drove the ball past short-stop. Then 
Harlan, their next batsman, went out, short to first, 



276 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

and his successor, Winton, struck out. Archer, who 
came next, brought Schenck home with a hit, but the 
following batter ended the inning by a fly. Score, six 
to three in Yale's favor. There was no scoring in the 
fifth and sixth innings, although Yale succeeded each 
time in getting men on bases. In the seventh Yale 
again began with a single, but failed to do anything 
more, and Princeton came to the bat. Winton struck 
three times, but the Yale catcher dropped the third ball 
and then threw wild to first. Archer struck out. Win- 
ton then came home on a wild pitch and a passed 
ball, the Yale battery evidently going to pieces. The 
next Princeton batter went to first on balls. Then 
another was put out, and a Princeton player named 
Wadleigh came to the bat. He was quite equal to the 
occasion, and sent a fine three-base hit into left field, 
bringing a run home. But the succeeding batsman 
went out, and the eighth inning opened with the score 
six to five in Yale's favor. The game was becoming 
decidedly interesting. One, two, three, Princeton put 
us out as we came to the plate. We returned the com- 
pliment when they came to the bat, so far as two men 
were concerned, but under these circumstances Prince- 
ton proceeded to brace again. Harlan hit for three 
bases, Winton followed with a single, on which Harlan 
came in and tied the score. Archer followed with 
another single, on which Winton took third and scored 
what proved to be the winning run, while the next bat- 
ter was striking out. We came to the bat for the ninth, 
and after two men were out Piatt made a two-base hit 
for Yale, and I succeeded him, with a chance to tie the 
score by batting him in. I hit the ball hard, driving it, 



BASE-BALL — FOK THE PLAYER 277 

as we all thought, over the head of a Princeton fielder 
named Loney ; but by a magnificent jump he reached 
and held it, and the game was over. Then a sad and 
quiet little band of men stole away to the train and 
left New Jersey. 

When asked what play I recall as most singular in 
my remembrance of college games, I tell the tale of a 
game Yale once played with Brown University at 
Providence. The field there was backed by a stone 
church behind center, and an occasional very long hit 
would strike it. In an open field such a hit would have 
resulted in a home-run. Yale had, I believe, made 
some objection to the ground on that account; but on 
this particular occasion, as it proved, the church as- 
sisted Yale very materially. The game was a common- 
place one up to the ninth inning, Yale having scored 
six runs and Brown none. When Brown came in to 
complete the game, in the ninth, the crowd had already 
become considerably diminished, and the few remain- 
ing were standing about the edge of the field making 
ready to go home. The first man at the bat made a hit, 
the second followed with another. The third man went 
out on a fly to the Yale pitcher. The next batsman 
made a base-hit, which was so slowly handled in the 
field that the first two men scored, the batter going on 
to second on the throw home. The next man at the 
plate hit a grounder to second, who attempted to throw 
the runner out at third, but threw wild, and both men 
scored, thus making the score: Yale, six; Brown, four. 
The next batter took first base on balls. The Yale 
pitcher struck out the following batter. The runner 
who had taken his base had meantime stolen second. 



278 WALTEK CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

A home-run now would tie the score, and the Brown 
man at the bat evidently realized this, for he made 
a long drive into center field. The Brown crowd yelled 
madly with delight; but the ball struck the church and 
bounded back to the fielder, who turned instantly and 
fielded it home, putting out the man who was running 
in from second by the veriest scratch I ever saw on the 
ball-field. 

I don't know that any man on the Yale nine ever 
earned the heartfelt gratitude of its every member to 
such an extent as did George Clark, our right-fielder 
in a game at Cambridge in 1880. We had scored 
two runs in the first inning, and Harvard had scored 
one. From the end of that first inning both sides had 
been struggling desperately to score, but without suc- 
cess. Repeatedly men had been on the bases, and some 
one or two had been thrown out at the home plate. 
Harvard came to the bat for the ninth inning, and 
their first batter went out by a throw from short-stop 
to first base ; a second batsman followed with a base- 
hit ; a third went to first base on an error, which gave 
the runner second. The next man batted to third, thus 
forcing out the runner at that base. The next bats- 
man, whose name was Fessenden, came to the bat and 
hit what certainly appeared to all of us and to the 
spectators to be a home-run over the low rail fence on 
the right-field side. Clark had started on the instant 
the ball was batted, and, coming to the rail just as 
the ball was passing over, he reached far out, and to 
our supreme delight caught and held it, leaving 
us winners. 



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APPENDIX 



FOR REFERENCE IN CASES WHERE FORMS OF AGREEMENT ARE REQUIRED, 

THE FOLLOWING SETS OF CONSTITUTIONS AND 

AGREEMENTS ARE APPENDED : 

Bowing. — Original Harvard- Yale Boating Agreement. 
Track Athletics. — Deed of Gift and Rules governing Harvard-Yale Track 
Athletic Contests. 

Contract. — Contract for Grounds, as used by Princeton and Yale when 
hiring Manhattan Field. 



ORIGINAL FORM OF BOATING AGREEMENT 

(YALE-HARVARD EIGHT-OARED RACES) 



All previous agreements entered into between the Harvard and 
Yale Boat Clubs are liereby abrogated and annulled. 

n 

These rules shall stand until repealed by the consent of both boat- 
clubs. By mutual agreement in writing, duly signed by the respec- 
tive captains of the two university crews, however, any one or more 
of Rules VI, VII, XII, XIV, XIX, XXIV may be temporarily sus- 
pended or waived by and with the written consent and approval of 
the referee. 

ni 

Additional agreements concerning things for which provision has 
not been made in these rules may be entered into in the same way as 
under Rule II. Such additional agreements, however, shall be tem- 
porary in their nature, and shall not last longer than is necessary to 
fulfill the purpose or purposes which gave rise to them. 

IY 

The race between Harvard and Yale shall be deemed an annual 
event ; but in case of the inability of either party to send a crew to 
participate in such annual race, notice of such inability shall be sent 
to the other party prior to the first day of December of that college 
year ; and if such notice shall be sent, no race will occur in that 
college year. 



The referee shall be a graduate of some neutral college ; and each 
boat-club shall name the referee on alternate years — Yale naming 
him in 1886. The name of the person proposed as referee shall be 
submitted by the proposing club to the other club at least one month 
before the day set for the race, and such nomination shall be acted 
upon within one week after its receipt. 

In case of objection to the person proposed, written notice of such 

283 



2S4 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

objection must be sent to the proposing club within one week from 
time the nomination is received. Within one week after the receipt 
of such notice, the proposing club must submit another name (or 
names) to the other club, which must be acted upon in the same 
manner as before. In case no objection be sent within the time 
specified above, the person whose name has been thus submitted 
shall be deemed the choice of both clubs for referee. 



VI 

In 1886 Yale shall have choice between the first Thursday and 
Friday after the last Wednesday in June as the day set for the an- 
nual race, after which the choice between the aforesaid days shall 
rest altematelv with Harvard and Yale. 



yii 

The race in the years 1886-90 shall take place at New London, 
Conn. 

VIII 

The race shall be rowed on ebb tide, and shall be started within 
two hours of high water at the starting-line. 

IX 

There shall be a central line of buoys which shall be situated at 
each half-mile point, and either boat may be disqualified if at any 
point during the race it shall be nearer than ten feet to, or more than 
one hundred feet from, the central line of buoys. 



The referee shall have absolute power in the interpretation of these 
rules, and his decision shall be final in all cases. Should any un- 
foreseen difference of opinion arise, it shall be referred to the referee 
for decision. 

XI 

Both boats shall be at the starting-point at the time agreed upon. 
If either boat cannot appear, the captain of such boat shall, before 
said time, personally report to the referee, who shall at once proceed 
to start the other boat, unless the delay has been caused by a bona 
fide accident. 

XII 

All races shall be started in the following manner: The referee 
shall ask the question, " Are you ready?" and receiving no reply 
after waiting not more than five nor less than three seconds, shall 
give the word " Go r ; and if either boat starts before the word is 
given by the referee, it shall be recalled and a new start made as soon 
as possible. A start shall be unfair if during the first ten strokes 
either of the competing boats shall be disabled by a bona fide accident. 



APPENDIX 285 



XTTT 



In any case an appeal must be made to the referee by the compe- 
titors themselves, or by the judge, before the crew leaves its boat. 



XIV 



In ease of a dead heat the race shall be declared a tie for that year : 
no flags shall be awarded, and neither college shall claim the cham- 
pionship for that year on any pretext whatever. 



xv 



No boat shall be allowed to accompany a competing boat for the 
purpose of directing its course, or affording any other assistance. 



XVI 

The championship flags shall be placed in the referee's hands be- 
fore the race, and shall be by him presented to the captain of the 
winning crew as soon as the race shall have been decided. These 
flags shall be provided by each college in turn — Yale to provide them 
in 1886. Each college shall contribute one half their cost. 

XVII 

If he thinks proper, the referee may reserve his decision, provided 
that in every case such decision be given on the day of the race. 
Pending his decision, no one shall be admitted to the presence of the 
referee except the judges and such witnesses as they and the referee 
may summon. 

XVJli 

The crews shall row in each successive year on alternate courses. 
In 1886 Yale shall have the east course and Harvard the west course, 
provided the race be rowed at New London. If rowed elsewhere, 
Yale is to have the choice of courses in 1886, after which the choice 
shall alternate between the two colleges. 

XIX 

The starting-line shall be moved down from the present starting- 
line the distance of sixty feet toward the finish-line, and shall be at 
right angles to the central line of buoys. Each boat shall be provided 
with a metal staff, or rod, eighteen inches high, carrying a flag, 9x5 
inches, of the color of its university, such rod to be fixed perpendic- 
ularly at the stem of shorter boat, and on longer boat at a distance 
forward from center of said boat equal to one half the length of the 
shorter boat. Each boat shall be started even by these flags so fixed 
on the starting line, and shall be adjudged to have completed the 
course when said flags shall have crossed the finish-line. 

xx 

Five days before the race a suitable referee's boat shall be pro- 
vided — such boat to be provided in 1886 by Yale, and alternately 
thereafter bv Harvard and Yale. 



286 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



XXI 



Each university shall name two judges and one timekeeper — one 
of these judges to be located at the finish : the other, with the time- 
keeper, to accompany the referee. The appointment of the judges 
and timekeepers shall be reported to the referee when made. 



XXII 



The referee shall appoint as a third judge at the finish a graduate 
of some neutral college, whose duty it shall be to decide, in case of 
disagreement between the other judges, which boat, if either, first 
crossed the line at the finish : such decision to be final. 



XXTTT 



Each of the two judges at the finish shall be provided with a flag 
of his college color, which he shall drop as a signal to the timekeepers 
when the boat of his college crosses the finish-line. 



XXT T 



A boat shall be provided for the judges at the finish by the club 
which does not provide the referee's boat. The boat shall be so 
placed that the referee and timekeepers may easily see the flags when 
thev fall. 



XXV 

On the day of the race, the referee, accompanied by the judges, 
shall go over the course and personally satisfy himself that every- 
thing is in proper position. 

xxvi 

Any man shall be eligible to row in the university race who is duly 
entered as a student in one of the recognized departments of the uni- 
versity. The appearance of his name in the annual catalogue, or a 
certificate of membership signed by the dean or other acting head of 
the department in which he is a student, stating that he entered such 
department prior to December 1st of the same college year, shall be 
med conclusive evidence in favor of the eligibility* of any candi- 
date or member of the crew. Either boat-club, by giving at least 
one week's notice before the day set for the race, may require such 
evidence to be submitted to the referee on or before the day set for 
the race. Failure to comply with these requirements will authorize 
the referee to deprive the person objected to of a seat in the boat on 
the day of the race, if he shall deem such action advisable after a full 
consideration of all the circumstances of the case. 

Alfred Ccavles, Jr. 
Paul K. Ames, 
George A. Adee. 

Or. S. MUMFORD. 

Lawrence E. Sexton. 



DEED OF GIFT AND CONDITIONS 

GOVERNING THE HARVARD-YALE CONTESTS FOR THE 
UNIVERSITY TRACK ATHLETIC CUP 



Deed of Gift 

The graduates of Yale and Harvard Universities, representing the 
donors whose names are hereto attached, hereby offer to the students 
of Harvard University and Yale University a cup to be known as 
the University Track Athletic Cup, for the encouragement of track 
athletics, and to foster a friendly rivalry between the students of the 
two universities in track and field athletics. 

A track athletic contest between the students of the two univer- 
sities is to be held annually between May 1st and July 1st of each 
year, provided this contract be renewed annually to the entire and 
mutual satisfaction of the universities. This cup shall be competed 
for as herein provided until one university shall have won five sep- 
arate years, when it shall become the permanent property of that 
university. If either or both universities shall withdraw before the 
cup is permanently won, the cup shall be disposed of in such manner 
as may be agreed upon by a majority of the graduates of the Univer- 
sity Track Athletic Cup Committee. 

The time and place for holding each contest, the number and na- 
ture of the events, the points that are to count, the rules regulating 
each contest and each event, the method of counting, the rules regu- 
lating the eligibility of contestants, and all incidental matters, includ- 
ing the construction of all rules, shall be determined, and may from 
time to time be changed and amended by the representatives of the two 
universities herein named and their successors, as herein provided, 
except as otherwise herein stated. Voting by proxy shall be per- 
mitted. To make any change or amendment an affirmative vote of 
at least five shall be necessary. As representing Harvard University, 
the following persons are appointed, viz.: E. J. Wendell, of New 
York; George B. Morison, of Boston, Massachusetts; the captain, 
from time to time, of the Harvard Track Athletic Team, and one 
undergraduate, to be selected by the Executive Committee of the 
Harvard Track Athletic Team prior to January 1st of each year. 
An additional undergraduate, not a senior, to be selected by the 
Executive Committee of the Harvard Athletic Association, shall be 

287 



WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

allowed to attend the meetings of this committee and join in debate, 
without power to vote. Vacancies shall be tilled by the other repre- 
sentatives of Harvard University. As representing Yale University, 
the following persons are appointed, viz.: Walter Camp ; Henry 
Stanford Brooks. Jr.; the captain, from time to time, of the Yale 
Track Athletic Team, and one undergraduate to be selected by the 
Executive Committee of the Yale Athfetie Association prior to Janu- 
ary 1st of each year. Au additional undergraduate, not a senior, 
to be selected by the Executive Committee of l:he Yale Athletic Asso- 
ciation shall be allowed to attend the meetings of this committee and 
join in debate, without power to vote. Vacancies shall be filled by 
the other representatives of Yale University. 
Dated March 16, 1S91. 

(Here follow signatures of Harvard and Yale graduate subscribers.) 



CONSTITUTION AXD RULES 

The University Track Athletic Cup Committee, having met on 
July 6th, 1S99, adopted the following Constitution and Rules: 



Constitution 



1. The annual contest shall be held on the afternoon two weeks 
before the last Saturday in May. 

2. Each university shall have the privilege of naming the place of 
contest in alternate years; the privilege of naming the place in 1900 
to be with Harvard, 

n 

1. Definition - . — An amateur is a person who has never competed 
in an open competition, or for money, or under a false name : or 
with a professional for a prize, or with a professional where gate- 
money is charged ; nor has ever at any time taught, pursued, or 
assisted at athletic exercises for money, or any valuable considera- 
tion : or whose association with the university was not brought about 
or does not continue because of any mutual understanding, express 
or implied, whereby his association would be of any pecuniary value 
to him whatever, direct or indirect. But nothing in this definition 
shall be construed to prohibit the competition between amateurs for 
medals, cups, or other prizes than money. And it is hereby expressly 
declared that this definition is not retroactive, and that all past acts 
of amateurs shall be judged in accordance with the provisions of the 
constitution of the I. C. A. A. A. A. adopted on the 25th day of 
February, 1>SS. The above definition shall take effect on and after 
April 4. 1S91. 



APPENDIX 289 

To prevent any misunderstanding in reading the above, attention 
is called to the following explanation : 

An athlete has forfeited his right to compete as an amateur, and 
has thereby become a professional by — 

{a) Ever have competed in an open competition, i. e., a competi- 
tion the entries to which are open to all, irrespective as to whether 
the competitors are amateurs or professionals, and, whether such 
competition be for a prize or not, in any athletic exercises, viz., 
baseball, rowing, cricket, etc. 

(&) Ever having competed for money in any athletic exercise. 

(c) Ever having competed under a false name in any athletic 
exercise. 

(d) Ever having knowingly competed with a professional for a 
prize, or where gate-money is charged in any athletic exercise. 

(e) Ever having taught or pursued as a means of livelihood any 
athletic exercise. 

(/) Ever having directly or indirectly accepted or received remu- 
neration for engaging in any athletic exercise. 

An athlete shall hereafter forfeit his right to compete as an ama- 
teur, and shall thereby become a professional, if, at any time after 
the foregoing definition shall take effect, he shall — 

(1) Directly or indirectly receive payment for training or coaching 
any other person in any athletic exercise. 

(2) Directly or indirectly receive payment for services rendered in 
teaching any athletic exercise. 

(3) Directly or indirectly receive payment for services rendered as 
referee, judge, umpire, scorer, manager, director, or in any other 
capacity at any professional exhibition or contest of any athletic 
exercise whatsoever. 

Note. — Nothing herein shall be construed to prohibit the accep- 
tance by any amateur of his necessary traveling expenses incurred as 
referee, judge, umpire, scorer, or starter in going to and from the 
place of any amateur. contest. 

(4) Directly or indirectly run, manage, or direct, for prospective 
profit, any professional exhibition or contest. 

An amateur shall not forfeit his right to compete as an amateur, 
and shall not become a professional by — 

(a) Receiving compensation for services rendered as ticket-taker 
or ticket-seller at any contest or exhibition of amateur athletics. 

(b) Receiving compensation for services personally rendered as 
secretary, treasurer, manager, or superintendent of any amateur 
athletic club. 

(c) Receiving compensation as editor, correspondent, or reporter 
of, or contributor to, any sporting, athletic paper or other periodical. 

{d) Running, managing, or directing, for prospective benefit, any 
sporting, athletic, or other paper or periodical. 

(e) Receiving compensation for services personally rendered as 
official handicapper, under the direction and authority of any ama- 
teur athletic association. 

(/) Receiving from a club of which he shall be a member the 
amount of his expenses necessarily incurred in traveling to and from 
the place of any amateur contest. 

19 



290 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

(g) Nothing in this rnle shall be construed so as to consider a man 
a professional for playing on a college team against a professional 
team. 

2. No one shall represent either university who is not an amateur 
under the above definition, and who has not been a member of that 
university, in good and regular standing, for at least one college 
year prior to said meeting. In case a competitor's qualifications are 
questioned, he shall furnish to the U. T. A. C. Committee a certifi- 
cate signed by three members of the faculty of said university, stat- 
ing that he regularly attended lectures and recitations amounting to 
at least five hours a week at such university, and had done so since 
the beginning of the college year prior to said meeting. 

in 

A student shall be allowed to compete at four U. T. A. C. A. meet- 
ings, and no more. 

IV 

The starter of the games shall be a professional of known integrity 
and ability. 

v 

The L T . T. A. C. Committee shall decide all protests on eligibility 
of competitors. 

VI 

1. At least three weeks before the annual games a list of all the 
entries shall be sent by the captain of each college team to the cap- 
tain of the opposing team. Each university shall be allowed to 
enter fifteen men in each event. Any protests must be sent to the 
chairman of the U. T. A. C. Committee within a week after receipt 
of entries. The latter shall at once notify the members protested 
and all members of the L T . T. A. C. Committee. 

2. He shall also send to the members protested a printed certificate 
of qualifications, to be signed according to Article II, Section 2. 
This certificate must have printed plainly upon its face said section, 
with a space below for signature. 

3. These certificates, signed, must be sent by protested contestants 
to the chairman of the U. T. A. C. Committee at least three days 
before the games. 

VII 

The events shall include ; 

Running 100 yards ; running 220 yards ; running one quarter mile : 
running one half mile ; running one mile ; hurdle racing, 120 yards, 
10 hurdles, 3 feet 6 inches ; hurdle racing, 220 yards, 10 hurdles, 
2 feet 6 inches ; running high jump ; running broad jump ; pole- 
leaping ; putting the shot, 16 pounds; throwing the hammer, 16 
pounds j two-mile run. 

VIII 

Each university shall be limited in number of contestants in each 
event, as follows : 



APPENDIX 291 

Running 100 yards, six; running 220 yards, six; running one 
quarter mile, three ; running one half mile, four ; running one mile, 
six ; hurdle racing, 120 yards, four ; hurdle racing, 220 yards, four ; 
field limits, five ; two mile run, six. 

IX 

The order and times of the events shall be as follows : 

TRACK EVENTS 

(1) 3.00— 120-yard hurdles, trial heats; (2) 3.10— 100-yard dash, 
trial heats; (3) 3.20— one-mile run ; (4) 3.30— 440-yard run ; (5)3.40 
— 120-yard hurdles, final heat; (6) 3.50 — 100-yard dash, final heat; 
(7) 4.00— 880-yard run; (8) 4.15— 220-yard hurdles, trial heats; 
(9) 4.25— 220-yard dash, trials ; (10) 4.35— two-mile run ; (11) 4.55— 
220-yard hurdles, final heat ; (12) 5.05— 220-yard dash, final heat. 

FIELD EVENTS 

(1) Shot-putting; (2) throwing the hammer; (3) pole-leaping; 
(4) running broad jump ; (5) running high jump. 



1. The expenses of the games, including prizes of a standard and 
number to be fixed by the committee, shall be paid for from the gate 
receipts. Any surplus receipts shall be divided between the athletic 
associations of the two universities equally. In case there be a 
deficit the same shall be borne equally by the athletic associations of 
each university. 

2. Training expenses and cost of transportation are not to be in- 
cluded in the expense as considered above. 

XI 

The cup referred to in the deed of gift shall be awarded each year 
to the team scoring the greater number of points. The points are 
to be counted as follows : First place, five ; second place, two ; third 
place, one. In case of a tie the cup shall be awarded to the team 
winning the greater number of first prizes ; and, if the tie still exists, 
the team winning the greater number of second prizes shall be 
awarded the cup. If necessary, third prizes shall be counted in the 
same way. 

XII 

Each contestant shall be allowed the exclusive use of his own shot, 
pole, and hammer. 

XIII 

The arrangements for the games shall be under the control of a 
Game Committee, consisting of the four active undergraduate mem- 
bers of the U. T. A. C. Committee. The chairman of this committee 
shall be chosen from the university having the choice of grounds. 



292 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



XIV 



A special meeting of the U. T. A. C. Committee shall be called by 
the chairman at the request of any member of that committee. 



xv 



The annual executive meeting shall take place on the second 
Saturday in March at the place where games are to be held in that 
year. 

Athletic Rules 



The officials of the games shall be appointed by the U. T. A. C. 
Committee, and shall be as follows : 

One referee ; three judges at the finish ; three timekeepers ; at least 
three field judges ; two or more inspectors ; two or more scorers ; 
clerk of the course; two assistant clerks of course; starter; one 
announcer. 

H. CLERK OF THE COURSE 

He shall record the name of each competitor who shall report to 
him. Shall give him his number for each game in which he is en- 
tered, and notify him before the start of every event in which he is 
engaged. The assistants shall do such portion of his work as he 
may assign them. 

III. STARTER 

He shall have entire control of competitors at their marks, and 
shall be the sole judge of fact as to whether or not any man has 
gone over his mark. 

IV. SCORER 

He shall record the laps made by each competitor and call them 
aloud, when tallied, for the information of the contestants. He shall 
record the order of finishing and the times of the competitors as 
given him by the timekeepers. The assistants shall do such portions 
of his work as he may assign to them. 

V. TIMEKEEPERS 

A. A. U. rules to govern. 

VI. JUDGES AT THE FINISH 

Two shall stand at one end of the tape, and the third at the other. 
One shall take the winner, another the second man, and the other 
the third man. In case of disagreement, the majority shall decide. 
Their decision as to the order in which the men finish shall be final 
and without appeal. 

Vn. FIELD JUDGES 

They shall see that accurate measurement of all trials of competi- 
tors in the high and broad jumps, the pole vault, and the weight 



APPENDIX 293 

competitions are made. They shall act as judges of these events, 
and their decisions shall be without appeal. In case of disagreement 
a majority shall govern. 

VIII. REFEREE 

He shall, when appealed to, decide all questions whose settlement 
is not otherwise provided for in these rules. His decision shall be 
final and without appeal. In case a race has been drawn in heats, 
and no more contestants appear than enough to make one heat, the 
referee shall be empowered to see that the race is run in one heat. 

IX. INSPECTORS 

It shall be the duty of an inspector to stand at such a point as the 
referee may designate ; to watch the competition closely, and to re- 
port to the referee immediately after its conclusion what he saw of 
the race. 

x. PROTESTS 

Verbal protests may be made at or before any athletic meeting 
against a competitor by any member of either university ; but such 
protest must subsequently, and before action is taken thereon, be 
made in writing and duly presented to the U. T. A. C. Committee. 



XI. INNER GROUNDS 

No person other than actual competitors shall be allowed on the 
field or track, except the officials and properly accredited representa- 
tives of the press. This rule applies to competitors not engaged in 
the game actually taking place. 



XII. TRACK 

The measurements of tracks shall be eighteen inches from the 
inner edge, which edge shall be a solid curb raised above the level 
of the track. 

Xni. STARTING SIGNALS 

All races shall be started by report of pistol, the pistol to be fired 
so that its flash may be visible to the timekeepers. A snap cap 
shall be no start. There shall be no recall after the pistol is fired. 

XIV. STARTING 

When the starter receives a signal from the judges at the finish 
that everything is in readiness, he shall direct the competitors to get 
on their marks. Any competitor starting before the signal shall be 
put back one yard. For the second offense, another yard ; and for 
the third shall be disqualified. He shall be held to have started 
when any portion of his body touches the ground in front of his 
mark. Stations count from the inside. 



291 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 



XV. KEEPING PROPER COURSE 

In all races on a straight track each competitor shall keep his own 
position on the course from start to finish. In the 100- and 220-yard 
dash, courses for contestants shall be marked out by stakes protrud- 
ing three feet from the ground, and connected at the top by a cord 
or wire plainly marked. 

XVI. CHANGE OF COURSE 

In all races other than on a straight track a competitor may change 
toward the inside whenever he is two strides ahead of the man whose 
path he crosses. 

XVII, FOULING 

Any competitor may be disqualified by the referee for jostling, 
running across, or in any way impeding another. 

XVIII. THE FINISH 

The finish shall be represented by a line between two finishing 
posts, drawn across and at right angles to the side of the track. 
Three feet above this line shall be placed a tape drawn tightly from 
post to post. A finish shall be counted when any part of the win- 
ner's body, except his hands or arms, shall touch this tape. The tape 
is to be considered the finishing for the winner, and the order of 
finishing across the track line shall determine the positions for the 
other competitors. 

XIX. HURDLES 

120-yard hurdle-race shall be over ten hurdles, each 3 feet 6 inches 
high. The first hurdle shall be placed 15 yards from the scratch, 
and there shall be 10 yards between each hurdle. 220-yard hurdle- 
race shall be over ten hurdles, each 2 feet 6 inches high. The first 
hurdle shall be placed 20 yards from the scratch,, and there shall be 
20 yards between each hurdle. Hurdle races of different distances, 
and with different number and height of hurdles, may be given. No 
record shall be made in a hurdle-race unless each of the hurdles, at 
the time the competitors jump the same, is standing. 

XX. JUMPING 

No weights or artificial aid will be allowed in any jumping con- 
tests except by special agreement or announcement. When weights 
are allowed there shall be no restrictions as to size, shape, or material. 

XXI. RUNNING HIGH JUMPING AND POLE -LEAPING 

The jump or leap shall be made over a bar resting on pins project- 
ing not more than three inches from the uprights. The height of 
the bar at starting and at each successive elevation shall be deter- 
mined by the measurers. Three trials shall be allowed at each 
height. Each competitor shall make one attempt in the order of his 
name on the program; then those who have failed (if any) shall 



APPENDIX 295 

have a second trial in regular order, and those failing on this trial 
shall take their final trial. Displacing the bar counts as a " try." A 
line shall be drawn six feet in front of the pole and parallel therewith 
in pole-leaping, and three feet in front of the bar and parallel there- 
with in high jumping ; and stepping over such line, to be known as 
the balk line, shall count as a balk. Three balks count as a " try." 
A competitor may omit his trials at any height, but if he fail at the 
next height, he shall not be allowed to go back and try the height 
he omitted. Each competitor shall be credited with the best of all 
his jumps or leaps. 

XXII. RUNNING BROAD JUMP 

The competitors shall have unlimited run, but must take off: from 
or behind the scratch. The scratch line shall be a joist five inches 
wide, the ground in front of which shall be removed to the depth of 
three and the width of six inches. Stepping over the scratch in an 
attempt shall be no jump, but shall count as a " try." Each com- 
petitor allowed three u trials," and the best three men have three 
more trials each. Each competitor shall be credited with the best of 
all his jumps. The measurement shall be from the outer edge of the 
joist to the nearest break of the ground made by any part of his 
person, A line shall be drawn six feet in front of the scratch line, 
and stepping over such line in an attempt shall count as a balk ; 
three balks count as a "try." 

XXIII. PUTTING THE SHOT 

The shot shall be a metal sphere weighing 16 pounds. It shall be 
put from the shoulder with one hand, and during the attempt it shall 
not pass behind or below the shoulder. It shall be put from a circle 
seven feet in diameter, two feet of whose circumference shall be a 
toe board four inches in height. Foul puts, which shall not be 
measured, but which shall count as puts, are as follows : 

1. Letting go of the shot in attempt, 

2. Touching the ground outside the circle with any portion of the 
body while the shot is in the hand. 

3. Touching the ground forward of the front half of the circle 
with any portion of the body before the put is measured. Each 
competitor shall be allowed three puts, and the best three men in the 
first trials shall be allowed three more puts. The measurement of 
the put shall be from the nearest edge of the first mark made by the 
shot to the point of the circumference of the circle nearest such 
mark. 

XXIV. THROWING THE HAMMER 

The hammer head shall be a metal sphere. The handle may be of 
any material, and the combined length of the head and handle shall 
not be more than four feet, and the combined weight shall not be 
less than 16 pounds. 

The hammer shall be thrown from a circle seven feet in diameter. 
In making an attempt a competitor may assume any position he 



296 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS 

pleases. Foul throws which shall not be measured, but which shall 
count as throws, are as follows : 

1. Letting go of the hammer in an attempt. 

2. Touching the ground outside the circle with any portion of the 
body while the hammer is in the hand. 

3. Touching the ground forward of the front half of the circle with 
any portion of the body before the throw is measured. Each com- 
petitor shall be allowed three throws, and the best three men in the 
first trial shall be allowed three more throws. The measurement 
of the throw shall be from the nearest edge of the first mark made 
by the head of the hammer to the point of the circumference of the 
circle nearest the mark. 



FORM OF CONTRACT BETWEEN CLUBS AND GROUND 

OWNERS 

USED BY YALE AND PRINCETON WITH MANHATTAN FIELD OWNERS 

This agreement, made this day of 

eighteen hundred and ninety- 

Between 

and 

of the first part, and 

of city, of the second part, 

Witnesseth, that the said party of the second part, in consideration 
of the sum of money hereinafter agreed to be paid to them by the 
party of the first part, hereby covenants and agrees to lease unto 
the parties of the first part,their athletic grounds, grand stands, seats, 
and accommodations, situated at the corner of One Hundred and 
Fifty-seventh Street and Sixth Avenue, in the City of New York, to 
be used on the eighteenth day of June next, between the hours of 
10 a. M and 6 P. M., by the parties of the first part, for the playing 
of a game of base-ball, to which the public shall be admitted upon 
paying such an admission-fee as shall be determined upon by the 
parties of the first part. 

The parti/ of the second part hereby further covenants and agrees, 
that on said eighteenth day of June the base-ball diamond and field 
shall be in perfect order, the ground thoroughly rolled, the diamond 
marked and lined with lime, the base and base-bags properly staked 
and secured, and the grounds conformed in all respects to the rules 
of the National League and American Association. 

The party of the second part hereby further agrees to furnish com- 
fortable seats for ten thousand persons, six thousand of which seats, 
at least, shall be in the grand stand, and shall be reserved for the 
persons purchasing the same. 

They hereby further agree to furnish at their own cost, and without 
charge to the parties of the first part, a proper police force to main- 
tain order, both within and about said grounds, and the entrance 
and exits thereto and therefrom. 

They hereby further agree to furnish at their own cost ticket-sellers 
and ticket-takers at the entrance to said grounds, if required so to 
do by the parties of the first part. 

297 



29S WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOETS 

Tliey hereby further agree to furnish at their own cost all tickets of 
admission and for reserved seats, and to have the six thousand, 
more or less, tickets for reserved seats in the grand stand printed 
by the American Bank Note Company. 

They hereby further agree that they will deliver to the parties of the 
first part the said six thousand reserved-seat tickets at least by 
June first next ensuing j and that all sales of tickets shall be made 
by the parties of the first part, if they, the parties of the first part, 
shall so desire. 

They hereby further agree to furnish to the parties of the first part 
three blue prints of the stand diagram for use in the sale of tickets. 

TJie said party of the second part hereby further assumes all liability 
for any damage that may occur to any person or persons on said 
grounds, or in said grand stand, or upon any part of said grounds 
and the seats thereon, so far as said damage is charged to negli- 
gence in the construction or management of the seats, grounds, or 
buildings. 

In consideration ivhereof, and the faithful performance of all and 
singular the covenants and agreements hereinbefore made by the 
party of the second part, we, the parties of the first part, hereby 
covenant and agree to pay to the party of the second part twenty- 
two and one half percentum of all the gross receipts of the sales of 
tickets of admission and for reserved seats for the said game of 
June eighteenth aforesaid. 

In icitness ivhereof, the parties to these presents have hereunto set 
their hands and seals the day and year first above written. 

Signed, sealed, and delivered ) 
in the presence of $ 



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